


A Long December

by blackmariahlee



Series: The Serpent and the Lion [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Explicit Language, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smoking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, pseudo magical medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:28:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmariahlee/pseuds/blackmariahlee
Summary: Harry Potter is not okay. He is drinking and smoking and not sleeping and working himself too hard. All to avoid thinking or feeling about much of anything. The very last thing he wants to do is go to Christmas Eve brunch at The Burrow. Or have to endure Teddy's first Christmas, without Lupin or Tonks. He would rather be at work. Doing what he does best. Fighting Death Eaters.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: The Serpent and the Lion [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538254
Comments: 25
Kudos: 75





	1. Maybe This Year

**Author's Note:**

> Yikes. Okay. So, I am so sorry for the delay y'all. Work has been a real motherfucker lately. Not to mention the global pandemic. But not to worry! I am now taking three different medications for anxiety. Everything is fine...  
> Thank you all so much for you comments and kudos! If it weren't for these, I probably wouldn't have worked to get this out any time soon. This will be another multi-chapter. I have it at five right now but that may change to four depending on how I split the chapters. They will not be equal length, just warning you now.

Harry Potter startled awake, falling out of his desk chair and onto the floor. There was a muffled snicker before it abruptly cut off. Harry groaned and sat up. There was a piece of parchment stuck to his cheek and his glasses were sitting crooked on his nose. A cursory glance of the room indicated that it was definitely daytime. And that he was not alone in his study. 

“Harry? Are you all right?” Hermione peered over the  desk; her face pulled into an expression of concern. He blinked up at her. 

“What’re you doing here?” She huffed at his question, reaching down and plucking the parchment from his cheek. 

“Well, hello to you, too, Harry.” Hermione glanced over the parchment before placing it on the desk. Harry pulled himself up from the floor and cracked his neck. He really had to stop falling asleep at his desk. Ron was stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and an amused smile on his face. 

“Sorry, Hermione. Yes, hello. Hi. Missed you terribly. Why’re you here?” Harry straightened his glasses. They were smudged from being pressed into his cheek. And he was still wearing his robes from yesterday. Great. 

“Just how long have you been sleeping, mate?” Ron smirked at him. Harry looked between them both and Hermione heaved a sigh. 

“It’s Christmas Eve, Harry. Honestly.” She glanced him over with a disapproving frown tugging at her lips. Christmas. Merlin. Was it really Christmas already? Harry rubbed a hand over his face and grimaced at the dried saliva and stubble. He could only imagine what he must look like. Probably rather awful if Hermione’s face was anything to go by. 

“Right. ‘Course. Sorry.” He sighed. “I’m surprised K r eacher let you guys in.” 

“Hermione was very persuasive.” Ron pushed off from the wall. “You oughta get changed, mate. Mum will be in a right state if you show up looking like that.” Oh bollocks. Christmas Eve luncheon at the Burrow. Fuck. “She’s already worried since you’re a bit late.” 

“Molly will be in a right state regardless of Harry.” Hermione glanced at Harry and they shared a knowing look. No matter how festive and bright this Christmas was, it would do nothing to fill the hole left behind by Fred. She turned back to Ron with a bright smile. “Why don’t you go back and let everyone know that Harry overslept and will be there soon?” 

“Yeah, all right.” Ron’s gaze flickered back and forth between them a couple times before he turned and left the room. Harry and Hermione stood, watching the door, and listening to the sound of Ron opening and closing the front door. The silence felt heavy and Harry dreaded what was to come. 

“Harry--” 

“Don’t start.” Harry brushed past her and walked out of the room. It had been a guest room at some point but he was using it as a makeshift study at the moment. He heard her huff again before her footsteps followed behind him. 

“You look awful, Harry! You’re clearly still not sleeping well. Or eating well. And it’s been months!” 

“I’m fine, Hermione!” Harry growled. “I’ve always been skinny, in case you forgot. And I’ve been sleeping well enough. I just...got caught up in reading last night.” 

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.” Hermione may have been behind  him, but he could hear the eyeroll in her tone. 

“All right, you’re forgiven.” He walked into the bedroom and started to strip off his outer robes. God, he had been dreading Christmas at the Burrow for months now. He was not remotely prepared to force a cheerful smile on his face and be strong for Molly and Arthur and everyone.  Would they spend the holiday pretending that everything was fine? Or would they spend it grieving and mourning? Harry didn’t have the energy for either option.

“We’re just worried about you, Harry.” Her voice had become small, quiet. Almost defeated. Harry turned toward her and there were tears in her eyes. But it hadn’t been so much what she said but how she had said it. 

“And who is ‘we’?” Harry raised a suspicious eyebrow and Hermione started to fidget.

“Well...Ron and I, of course. And Molly. Andromeda. ...Draco.” Harry flinched as though she had struck him with that final word. 

“You’ve all been talking about me then?” He turned his back to her again and yanked his shirt off. “Gee, this sure feels familiar doesn’t it?” 

“He’s concerned. He wrote to me last month and...well, he mentioned that he had seen you on Halloween and you weren’t doing very well.” 

“Is that all he said? I wasn’t doing well?” Harry could feel his entire body tense. He really hoped that Draco hadn’t gone into specifics about that night. It was humiliating enough that Draco had witnessed it. He still felt a flush of shame when he thought about it. 

“ Oh, for goodness sake, Harry! He didn’t give me a detailed run down of the entire night, if that’s what you’re asking.” Hermione came into his peripheral vision as she started to pick up his cast aside robes. “He mentioned that you drank rather heavily and had a few bouts of accidental magic. And that you were still having nightmares.” 

“And you’re not?” 

“I never said that.” Hermione gently touched his shoulder and he hadn’t realized that it was cold until her warm skin touched his. She turned him to face her once more, but he kept his gaze on the worn floorboards. “We’re all suffering, Harry. You don’t have to go through all of this alone.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed him tightly. Harry sighed but wrapped her up and held her close. 

Hermione sniffled and he was reminded of their ill-fated trip to  Godric’s Hallow last Christmas. God...was that really only a year ago? Last Christmas, they had been on the run and hunting down horcruxes. Fred had still been alive. Remus and Tonks had still been alive. And expecting their first child. Colin Creevey had still been alive. Their world hadn’t been completely shattered and taped back together in a poor semblance of normalcy. 

“How is it there?” Harry finally managed to speak though it was barely above a whisper. 

“It’s...difficult.” Hermione pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “Molly is trying to carry on but the whole house feels different. Percy and Charlie are going to be coming as well. Try to make up for the empty seat at the table and distract her.” 

“Fuck, Hermione. I don’t know if I can do this.” Harry pulled away from her embrace and ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t even set foot in the Burrow since...” Fred. Harry choked on the word. He took a breath and tried again. “The last time I was there was Bill and Fleur’s wedding.” 

And didn’t that feel like a lifetime ago. Harry and Ginny had shared their last kiss that day. They had all been so ignorant of what was to come that night. A single Patronus that sent their world crashing down around them. Maybe it was a lifetime ago. Harry had certainly been a different person then.

“I know, Harry. It’s going to be difficult for everyone this year. You aren’t alone in that.” She sniffled again. “But we can get through it the same way we always have.” Hermione caught his gaze and gave him a watery smile. “Together. Now, go take a shower and make yourself at least somewhat decent. We want you to look just a mess enough to get Molly worried and shoving food in your mouth but not so much that she starts crying.” 

“Well, that’s a tough line to walk.” Harry snorted a laugh. 

“I believe in you.” Hermione smiled. “Shower. I’ll start putting together some clothes and such.” She turned to his room and made a tsking sound. 

“Wait...why are you gathering clothes for me?” 

“To stay overnight? At the Burrow? For Christmas morning?” Hermione turned back to him with a frown.

“I...hadn’t planned on staying the night.” 

“It’s just one night, Harry. You have enough Dreamless Sleep for one night.” One of the Healers working with the Aurors had given him a bottle following his full physical. He had been instructed to take five milliliters every night for six months. To “recalibrate” his mind and sleeping patterns, according to Healer Matternan. Harry only took it when he absolutely had to. It had addictive qualities after  all, and Harry had better things to do then sleep. 

“Fine. But I’m going over to Andi’s after presents tomorrow. I promised her that I would spend time with Teddy for the holiday.” Harry sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face again. Merlin, this weekend was going to be long and painful and exhausting. He should have taken the holiday  shift, but Molly and Andi had both insisted. He wondered if Draco had written to them as well. 

Harry stalked into the bathroom and started the shower. He wished he could say that he was surprised Draco had written to Hermione. But really, he had been an absolute mess on Halloween. Draco had stayed the rest of the night and left the next day. He had tried to stay until evening on the 1 st , but Harry had insisted he was fine and sent him home. In truth, he didn’t want to get used to Draco’s presence in the dank, dark gloom of Grimmauld. Harry couldn’t rely on another presence. Just him, Kreacher, and the ghosts that the war left behind. Sometimes, Harry wondered if he wasn’t latter. 

In the month that followed, he and Draco continued to correspond regularly. And for all their talk of no promises and simply being friends, it nearly killed Harry to read Draco talk about Blaise Zabini. Harry had always been fairly indifferent to the other Slytherin. In terms of house rivalry and the war, Zabini had just sort of...been there. But now he could say for a fact that he absolutely bloody hated him. Blaise Zabini sounded like an arrogant prick and, aside from being gorgeous, Harry just couldn’t understand what Draco saw in him. 

_ Blaise is...familiar. We have known each other for a long time. We lived in the same dorm. I can trust that he isn’t likely to try and hex me in my sleep. I cannot say the same for most others. True, the war did not affect the continent as much as it did the Isles, but there are those that recognize the mark on my arm for what it is. Much in the same way that you avoid those who would only have you for the scar on your forehead, I must avoid those who would do me harm for my mark.  _

It made sense, in a way. And Harry could recognize that he was rather biased. He missed Draco. And he hated the idea of him with Zabini. But that wasn’t up to him. They both had to live their lives. Or so Hermione kept telling him. It didn’t ease the ache in his chest or the ripple of familiar anger throughout his body. 

Harry heaved a sigh as he finished undressing and stepped into the shower. It had been a few days since his last one and he couldn’t blame Hermione for forcing him to take one before he encountered Molly Weasley. He could smell the stale sweat and haze of alcohol on him but most days nobody noticed. Or if they did, they never said anything. His drinking habits had certainly gotten worse following Halloween. He blamed Draco and bloody Blaise Zabini for that though. How else was he supposed to deal with this throbbing pain in his chest? 

He knew he should take Hermione’s advice and try to “put himself out there” but quite frankly, it sounded bloody awful. And he didn’t exactly have the time. While he had finally taken and passed his NEWTs, Auror training still involved a fair amount of study. And he had been placed on the fast track course with all the other incoming Aurors. Their ranks had taken a hit during the war. Partly due to good Aurors dying and partly due to Death Eaters hiding amongst them. 

When Harry wasn’t moping about the house, drinking the firewhiskey that had once belonged to his godfather, he was studying. Hermione and Draco had both commended him on his new dedication to study. Harry wasn’t sure it was anything to be proud of. It was just one more distraction from the loneliness and crushing grief. And when he wasn’t in the house, he was at the Ministry. Going to his classes, going to the training facility, falling asleep at desks in Auror archive library. This was his life now. 

Sometimes, when Harry was feeling up to it, he would go and visit Teddy. He wished that he felt up to that more  often, but the visit was in and of itself rather difficult. Every time he looked at Teddy, he was overwhelmed with guilt and grief. And a strange sense of déjà vu. Another war, another orphan. And spending time with Andromeda Tonks was just as bad. Not only had Harry cost her Tonks and her husband, but she was still so similar in appearance to Bellatrix. 

Harry only visited Teddy and Andi on good days, now. He had made the mistake of going over there on a bad day once. The ensuing panic attack and crushing wave of guilt afterwards had taught him a valuable lesson. The nightmares that followed that visit ensured it was a lesson that he never forgot. 

“Harry! Come on!” Hermione shouted through the door. Right. The Weasleys. Christmas Eve. Fuck. Okay.

“Gimme a minute!” Harry finished rinsing out his hair and decided to forgo a shave. He didn’t really have time now. And perhaps the scruff could distract from the dark circles under his eyes or the rather gaunt  appearance of his face.  With another sigh, Harry turned off the water, stepped out, and wrapped a towel around his waist. When he opened the door, he almost collided with Hermione. 

“Oh! Good. I was about to go in after you.” She took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest.  “You really do look awful, Harry.” 

“Gee, thanks Hermione.” He brushed by her into the bedroom. 

“I have your things all packed.  Get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs.” 

“Okay.” Harry pulled out  a worn t-shirt and denims. He knew that they were all just trying to help.  And in some small corner of his mind, he appreciated the effort. But for the most part he just found the constant nagging and worry to be exhausting. It was maddening.  He was so desperately lonely but when he finally had company, he just wanted to be alone.

Hermione was waiting by the Floo with Kreacher hovering nearby. The house elf was the only companion he really had these days.  And even when they didn’t get along, Harry was forever grateful to the elf .  He knew when to leave Harry alone at the very least. 

“I’ll be gone for a couple of days, Kreacher.  Keep an eye on things while I’m gone.” Harry gave the elf a small smile.

“Of course, Master Harry.” Kreacher bowed.  He still wore the fake locket around his neck. Half the time, Harry wanted to rip it off him and smash it to bits. 

“Let’s get this over with.” Harry sighed. 

“Don’t sound so enthused.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “ You first.” She gestured to the Floo. 

“What, are you afraid that I won’t  follow, and I’ll close my Floo and lock my doors and just stay here until the New Year?” 

“Yes, actually. Now, if you please.” She gave him a brilliant smile. 

“Are you sure you weren’t almost Sorted Slytherin?” 

“Positive. The only other House that was even considered was Ravenclaw. Obviously. Now, stop stalling and get in the Floo before I hex you.”  Harry sighed and stepped into the fireplace. He took a handful of Floo powder. 

“I don’t think I can do this.” 

“Yes, you can. ” 

“Couldn’t I just back to hunting for horcruxes?” 

“No. Harry…” Hermione reached out and took his free hand. “It’s going to be difficult. I won’t lie to you. But I’ll be there.  And Ron. And Ginny. And Bill. And Charlie. And we’ll all get through this together. Okay?”  Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Okay.” He nodded. “Okay… The Burrow!” Harry was swept away in a swirl of green fire and stumbled his way out on the other side. Floo travel truly was the worst. Harry grumbled as he straightened up, dusting the soot off his clothes. 

“Harry, dear!” Molly Weasley bustled into the kitchen and Harry did his very best impression of someone who was happy to be there. 

“Hey, Mrs. Weasley.” He does his best to return her embrace. She has her arms wrapped around him in an almost bone crushing hug. 

“It is so wonderful to see you! We were beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten where we lived!” Her smile was too bright. And her tone too cheerful. Forced festive then. Wonderful. 

“Sorry. Been busy, you know.” Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. “Passing my NEWTs and Auror training has kept me pretty occupied.” 

“Well, we are just so grateful that you’re here now. And coming to celebrate the holiday with us! After the rather dour affair of last year. It’ll be nice to have everyone back together!” Harry could see the moment that her own words caught up with her. Because not everyone would be there. Her smile cracked and she took in a shuddering breath. 

“I. .. Mrs. Weasley, maybe I should--” He gestured vaguely at the Floo just as Hermione stepped out. 

“Nonsense!” Molly cleared her throat. “Come on. We can’t keep the rest waiting.” She ushered him out of the kitchen into the living room. The noise seemed subdued as far as Weasley family gatherings go. Especially with everyone there. Charlie hardly ever made it for the holidays. But as Hermione had promised, he was there. Charlie, Ginny, and Ron were piled on the sofa. Bill and Fleur were taking up one of the armchairs. Percy and George were sitting on the floor, playing a quiet game of chess. Arthur was seated in another armchair, watching the chess game with a sad smile on his face. 

And immediately Harry felt like an intruder. This was the first Christmas after the war. After Fred had been killed. After Remus and Tonks. All three of them had been present for his  last Christmas at the Burrow. And their absence felt like a gaping black hole in the middle of the room. It was sucking all of the cheer and joy out of the house and the people sitting around it. How were they all sitting here? How were they all just ignoring this imminent disaster in the center of the room? This massive, empty, black mass that was waiting to pull them all in? Did they not feel it? Was Harry the only one that wanted to jump headfirst into it just to see Fred again? To see Remus and Tonks and Sirius and Mad-Eye?

“Harry? Are you okay?” He startled when Charlie placed a large, warm hand on his shoulder. 

“Yeah. Sorry. Just...tired, I guess.” Harry managed a smile. 

“You look a bit worn down. Are you sure you’re training for the Aurors and not battling more Hungarian Horntails?” 

“Ha ha.” Harry rolled his eyes. 

“Charlie’s got a point.” Ginny raised her eyebrows. “Even if he is trying to be nice. You look like the Horntail won the last two rounds and is kicking your arse in round three.” 

“Gee, with friends like you.” Harry sighed. 

“All right. Behave, you lot.” Molly chided as she pushed Harry toward the sofa. “The Ministry isn’t working you completely to the bone are they, dear?” 

“I hear old Gawain is working the new recruits rather hard.” Arthur spoke up, taking a sip of his tea. 

“Minister Shacklebolt wanted all new incoming Aurors put on a fast track.” Percy nodded as he stared at the chess board. “I hear from Head Auror Robards that you’re top of your class, Harry. I have to say, I am rather surprised. Given your performance at Hogwarts.” 

“Wow, Perce. That was almost a compliment.” George rolled his eyes. Percy retaliated by taking George’s bishop. 

“I think that is quite enough talk of work.” Molly placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to hear another word of the Ministry or of Hogwarts.” She managed a strained smile. 

“Of course, Mrs. Weasley.” Hermione walked in behind her. “I rather agree. At least for a couple days. It would be nice to think of something other than studying and the future.” 

“...Who are you and what’ve you done with Hermione Granger?” Ron stared wide-eyed at his girlfriend. 

“Oh, stop.” Hermione rolled her eyes. She situated herself on the sofa between Ron and Ginny. Molly had bustled off back to the kitchen and Harry was left standing rather awkwardly in the center of the room. A lump formed in his throat as he looked around at the only family he had ever really known. And he felt so apart and far away from them all. Even standing in the same room. 

“I need to...fresh air...” Harry mumbled and practically fled from the living room. His chest felt tight and he couldn’t quite breathe properly. 

Harry stumbled out to the front garden and quickly made his way to shed. Where Dumbledore had cautioned him to be wary and carry his cloak with him everywhere. It was no wonder they were all so paranoid. Constant vigilance. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. It wasn’t the best  habit, but it had started when he found a half empty pack while cleaning out Sirius’ room. Somehow it made him feel closer to his godfather. The lightheaded, calming effect was a nice plus as well. 

As he leaned back against the shed and took a long drag from his first cigarette of the day, he thought about the first Christmas he had spent with an actual family. It hadn’t been until his fifth year, after Arthur had been attacked by Nagini at the Ministry. Every holiday before that  had been just the three of them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, staying behind at Hogwarts. And before that...well, Harry had spent much of the Christmas holidays either cooking and cleaning or locked in his cupboard. 

That first Christmas at Grimmauld Place with Sirius had been the first time Harry had genuinely felt like he was a part of a family. Remus and Sirius had bought him a joint present and he kicked himself now for not realizing how close they were. And he wondered, not for the first time, what it might have been like if they had survived the war. Would they have stayed together? Would Harry be celebrating with his godfather and his boyfriend in a renovated Grimmauld? 

“Those things can kill you, you know?” Harry jerked his head up at the interruption. Charlie had a small smile on his face as he leaned against the shed next to Harry.

“Well, you know what the Muggles say. Third times the charm.” Harry flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and took another long drag. 

“Don’t let Mum catch you saying things like that. Or smoking for that matter. Think she would have you committed.” Charlie reached over and took the cigarette out of his hand. He took a short drag and handed it back. “You okay? Really?” Harry couldn’t help the bitter laugh. 

“Yeah, ‘course. I’m brilliant.” He shook his head. “It was suffocating in there.” 

“I know what you mean.” Charlie sighed. “I love Mum and everything but I’m not sure this is the healthiest way to go about our first Christmas without...” He cleared his throat. “Without Fred.” 

“Is there a healthy way to go about this?” Harry looked up at the clear, December sky. How were any of them supposed to heal from wounds that ran this deep? 

“Probably not.” Charlie shrugged. “I guess we all have to deal with it in our own way.” 

“How is it back in Romania? Draco--” Harry stopped and took a drag before he tried again. “Draco says things in France are almost normal.”

“Well, I’m not really sure. The reserve is pretty separate from the rest of the country. Most of the people working there are at least somewhat aware of the war. Either from friends or relatives. But I think it’s pretty clear they don’t know how bad it really was.” Charlie glanced down at him. “Where is Draco this holiday season?” 

“Oh, you know.” Harry waved his hand vaguely. He dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his trainer. “With his mum in Paris.” 

“Everything okay with you guys?” 

“There isn’t really a...a ‘you guys’.” Harry ran a hand through his hair. “We’re just friends. We write to each other fairly often. Or as often as we can. But he’s pretty busy with the Healer program and everything so we don’t talk as often as I’d like.” 

“...You love him, don’t you?” Harry refused to look at Charlie. He didn’t want to know what expression went with that voice. 

“I care about him. And I miss him.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I just feel like a bloody idiot.” Harry shook his head and laughed. “He was the first person that reached out to me after the Battle and the war and I think I just...I held onto him like a tether and now he’s gone and living his own life and I’m just here. Floating away.” 

“You do look like a stiff breeze would send you flying.” Charlie sounded like he was trying  to  make a joke but they both knew it wasn’t  funny . “Look, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you . You can’t put someone else in charge of your happiness.”

“I know that. It’s why we agreed to this whole, just friends thing.” Harry sighed heavily. “I think what bothers me is that… ” He groaned and let his head hit the  shed. “He makes it look  so easy. He’s doing brilliantly in his program. He and his mum have a better relationship than ever before.  He’s trying to have some kind of relationship with his father. He’s… he’s seeing other people and I just…”

“We’re all just trying our best, Harry.” Charlie laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.  “If it’s any consolation, I’m proud of you. After everything that happened, I think I’d be  curled up in a bed on the Thickey ward at St. Mungo’s. But you’re still standing. And you’re trying. Don’t expect so much of yourself. It’s barely been six months.”

“Yeah, ‘spose.”  Harry chanced a glance at  him, and Charlie gave him a gentle, reassuring smile. 

“Now, come inside before the rest of that lot comes looking for you.”  He wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Or worse, Mum finds you.” 

“That would be terrible.” Harry  allowed Charlie to lead him back to the house. Back to the Burrow. A place that had once felt like home. Much like Hogwarts. And now he felt like an intruder. An outsider.  He so desperately wanted to feel like he was part of a family. Any family.  Maybe it would be better tomorrow. Maybe being with Andi and Teddy would  bring back a piece of himself. He could only hope. 

_ 24 December 1998  _

_ Darling,  _

_ Happy Christmas! I hope you don’t mind terribly but I may have already opened my gift.  _ _ The suspense was killing me.  _ _ Imagine my surprise when I find one of your ridiculously oversized Muggle  _ _ “hoodies”. And not even a new one!  _ _ I will have you know that it is, in fact, terribly comfortable. And it still smells like you.  _ _ You wanker.  _

_ And just for that, I shall give you an early Christmas gift as well.  _ _ Blaise and I have amicably gone our separate ways.  _ _ He felt the need to go out and bloody well shag the entirety of wizarding Paris and I did not feel the need to receive any communicable diseases _ _.  _ _ I know you were never particularly thrilled that we were seeing each other.  _ _ To be completely honest, I wasn’t either.  _ _ As it turns out, Blaise really isn’t much more than a pretty face. _ __

_ I am sorry that we won’t see each other over the holidays.  _ _ I miss you. And your much prettier face.  _ _ I suppose I will simply have to wrap myself in my new Potter scented hoodie and think happy thoughts.  _

_ Truly, the appalling sentiment behind your gift is very much appreciated.  _ _ I wish I had thought to do the same for you. I know that you always slept better when I was next to you. And I know that you are not sleeping well.  _ _ I wish you would allow  _ _ someone to help you, darling. Haven’t you suffered enough?  _

_ I expect an owl first thing tomorrow morning after you have opened your gift. Give my love to Aunt Andromeda and  _ _ little Teddy. I miss you, Harry. Take care of yourself.  _

_ Draco _

Harry set down the letter and stared at it for a long moment. A deep sense of relief flooded through him and he could feel tension he hadn’t even noticed leave him. Not only had Draco liked his somewhat strange gift but he had also stopped seeing Blaise  Zabini . And thank fuck for that. He had no idea what their “dating” entailed. Harry had never gotten up the nerve to ask Draco for details. That wasn’t likely to change despite this new information. 

The gift probably went over a lot better than it would have if Blaise was still in the picture. Draco had mentioned in one of his letters, post-Samhain breakdown, that he missed waking up to the smell and the warmth of Harry in the mornings. So, Harry, being the pathetic  tosser that he was, had gone out and purchased a brand-new, emerald green, cashmere hoodie. And then proceeded to wear it around the house and while falling asleep on the couch. He was afraid the gift had been a bit...intimate. Especially considering that they were “just friends” now. Harry was glad that Draco had liked the gift and not mocked him endlessly. 

Harry ran a hand through his hair and fell back against the cot that was acting as his bed. Ron, Charlie, and him were all squeezed into Ron’s room. Bill and Fleur were in Bill’s old room, George and Percy were sharing Percy’s old room. And Hermione was bunking with Ginny as usual. The  twins bedroom remained untouched. Nobody could stand to even be in the room. Not now. Not yet. Besides, it wasn’t like they all hadn’t slept on top of each other before. The house had been overflowing with guests for Bill’s wedding.

The truth was that Harry’s feelings about Draco fluctuated almost daily. Some days he bloody loved the git. Some days he positively loathed him. Other days he would just lay in his bed, a bottle of  firewhiskey his only companion, and desperately wished that Draco would just come and hold him. His feelings were frequently altered depending on when or how Draco responded to a letter. The longer it took Draco to respond, the more Harry leaned towards hating him. Or if his next letter was short. Or made too much reference to  Zabini . Logically, Harry knew this was crazy. And he hated himself for even thinking of hating Draco. And as soon as he sent another letter, a longer letter or one that referenced how much Draco missed him, Harry swung right back to being madly in love. 

It was crazy. And definitely unhealthy. But knowing that was the case did not keep Harry from responding the way he did. It was endlessly  frustrating and he didn’t know how to make any of it stop. Not his pendulum feelings for Draco, not his nightmares, not the vague sense of emptiness or numbness that took hold sometimes. Often, he felt that he was back in the Black Lake and nobody had bothered to slip him some  gillyweed this time. The dark water would sometimes swallow him whole until he felt he was suffocating. Or he was barely keeping his head above water. But he could never make out the shoreline. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep treading water. 

Harry just had to make it through the rest of tonight and tomorrow. And then he would be back at work. Some days, the only thing that really kept him going was the fact that there were still some Death Eaters out there. Loyal to Tom Riddle and willing to try and continue his mission. Which meant that the wizarding world still needed him. And that helped to ease the empty, numb feeling. He still had a purpose. He wasn’t sure what would happen when they had caught them all. Cross that bridge when we get there, he thought. 

“Mate?” Ron’s voice pulled him from his rather morose thoughts. “Lemme guess, Malfoy sent a Christmas letter early?” 

“Yeah, he liked the hoodie.” Harry managed to force a grin onto his face. “And he’s stopped fooling around with  Zabini .” 

“Don’t even go there.” Ron sighed, rolling his eyes and sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Go where?”

“He is in France, you  pillock . Even if  Zabini is out of the picture. You’re just friends, remember?” 

“Gee, thanks, Ron. I completely forgot where he lived. Or what our  relationship status was. Or lack thereof.” 

“I wish I could figure out what your obsession with that prat is.” Ron shoved a chocolate frog in his mouth. “You’re Harry Potter. Witches and wizards are dying to be with you.” 

“Yeah,  cuz I’m Harry Potter.” He sighed and rolled his eyes, grabbing a chocolate frog from Ron’s pile. “We’ve been over this. I don’t  wanna date someone who’s only interested in the ‘Chosen One’ or ‘Boy Who Lived’. That’s not...” Harry screwed up his face. “That’s not who I am. Or that’s not all I am. I dunno.” 

“I get that, mate. Really, I do. I think I might finally understand. Being back at Hogwarts after everything is bloody mental. Some of the kids practically worship the ground we walk on, me and Hermione. At first it was sort of fun.” Ron grinned as he tossed his chocolate frog card at Harry, that same grinning face staring back at him. “People offering to carry our bags or giving us their treats from home...” His face turned dark. “Until one of those treats was laced with a love potion. McGonagall gave me detention for a month after I hexed the bastard. 

“Luckily Hermione was  fine but it was scary. I guess I hadn’t realized how obsessed people could get until we experienced it ourselves.” 

“Why didn’t I hear about this?” Harry was scowling. 

“Because we knew you’d march right into Hogwarts and arrest the fucker.” Ron rolled his eyes but still had a grin on his face. “Honestly, I think the whole Great Hall would swoon if you stormed in wearing your official Auror robes to arrest someone.” 

“Piss off!” Harry threw his pillow at him and Ron burst into laughter. 

“Oh, Auror Potter!” He cried in a mocking falsetto. “You’re so dashing, Auror Potter!” He shrieked as Harry launched himself across the room to wrestle Ron. “Stop, Auror Potter, I am promised to another!” 

“Oi, you two!” Charlie called from the bedroom door. “Knock it off before Mum comes in here!” Ron and Harry both froze for a moment before Ron reached for a pillow and tossed it at Charlie, hitting him in the face. 

“Well don’t just stand there, Charlie! Dashing, young Auror Potter is attempting to take your youngest brothers virtue!” 

“What bloody virtue is that you twit?” Harry shoved his face into the bed. “Pretty sure that ship sailed quite a bit ago, mate.” 

“Help! Charlie!” Ron screeched as Harry started to tickle him. 

“You promise to stop acting like an  Amortentia addled fan and I’ll stop!” 

“I swear...” Charlie marched across the room and easily lifted Harry off of Ron. “Are you sure you’re of age? You two act more like second years than anything else.” 

“I promise, Charles, I am definitely of age.” Harry winked at him and Charlie dropped him unceremoniously onto his cot. 

“Oh, gross, Harry!” Ron groaned and covered his face with his hands. “You can’t shag all of my siblings!” 

“First of all, Ginny and I never shagged. Second, I’m pretty sure Mrs. Weasley would be happy to have me as a son-in-law regardless of how it happens.” 

“Yeah, well the way you’re making moon eyes at a bloody piece of parchment I’m pretty sure you won’t be marrying into this pureblood family.” Ron rolled his eyes. 

“Ha, very funny. As if Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy would ever let their only son and heir marry a half-blood. Much less a bloke.” Harry rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the angry, sharp stabbing in his gut. 

“You never know, Harry.” Charlie shrugged as he threw himself down on the other bed. “Wizards are able to do some pretty incredible things with potions and spells. You could easily give birth to the next generation of Malfoys.” 

“All right, that’s it!” Ron cried out in exasperation. “I draw the line at discussing Harry taking it up the  arse for Malfoy and carrying his kid. I love you, mate, but Merlin!” 

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, Ron.” Harry winked over at him. Ron gagged and got up from the bed. 

“Nope. No thank you. I’m  gonna go find the other straight people in this house and see what they’re up to.” Ron scurried from the room and Harry and Charlie collapsed into laughter.

“Now who’s a second year?” Harry threw his pillow at Charlie. He caught it with all the skill of a seasoned seeker and dragon-wrangler. 

“If I had known talk of gay sex would send my brother running from the room, I would have tried it sooner.” Charlie grinned down at him. Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed his pillow back from Ron’s bed. 

“He’s such a hypocrite. The first time he tried to talk to me about him and Hermione, I told him that under no circumstances did I ever want to hear anything about it. She’s like a sister to me.” 

“Sanctuary!” Ginny cried as she flung herself through the door. “Ron and Hermione are snogging in my room. I demand sanctuary.” 

“I  dunno , Ginny, Charlie and I were getting ready to talk about our own sex lives.” Harry winked at Charlie and got a face full of pillow. 

“No, we weren’t. You’re safe with us.” Charlie held his arms out and Ginny launched herself at him. 

“You always were my favorite brother.” Ginny grinned and Charlie shook his head.

“You say that to all of us.” 

“No, I mean it! You’re the best.” 

“Well, obviously, but you shouldn’t say it.” 

Harry smiled at the scene before him. Maybe he should make an effort to get out of the house more. See his adoptive family. He had been so caught up in the guilt and the grief that he had been sure it wouldn’t be the same as it had been. That Molly would scorn him for the loss of her son. That George would never look at him the same. That Percy would always hate him for the schism he had caused in their family. Not to mention he couldn’t comfort them. How could he when he couldn’t even comfort himself without a bottle of  firewhiskey and a pack of cigarettes? He sighed and laid back on the cot and closed his eyes. Maybe being with his family wasn’t so bad after all.


	2. If You Think That I Could Be Forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco Malfoy receives three letters on the quiet evening of December 25. Harry Potter may be the death of him yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does end on a bit of a cliffhanger. If that's not your thing, you may want to hold out for the following chapter. It's coming soon but I know my anxiety can't always handle it. You've been warned!

_ 25 December 1998  _

_ Draco,  _

_ Happy Christmas to you, too. I’m glad you like your gift. I went back and forth on that for a week. Good thing it paid off. And it is new! I bought it for you.  _ _ And I wore it around for a couple weeks. You really thought that I had a green, cashmere hoodie hanging around? I hope it helps you feel a bit more settled.  _ _ If it makes you feel better, I felt like a right prat sending it to you. Have I mentioned I’m so glad that you actually like it?  _

_ Oh, no _ _. I’m…so terribly sorry? He really is a git _ _ , Draco. I might be  _ _ biased, _ _ and I may have never seen what wizarding Paris has to offer, but I can’t imagine that any of them could be better than you.  _ _ Really, though, I’m sorry.  _ _ Lemme know if I need to come kick his arse. Because I can and I will.  _

_ The Burrow has both been better and worse than I expected. It’s almost nice to be around my friends again. And the warm smell of the kitchen.  _ _ And the way that Molly hugs me. I swear, she has magical hugs. They make me feel like I’m almost  _

_ Thank you for the gift. I can’t believe your mum kept it. It’s a bit on the larger size on me at the moment of course. Molly has already offered to work her magic to fit it better. It smells the way I always imagined Sirius would smell when he was younger. I know that sounds mental. But the leather and the cigarettes and the whiskey and wet earth. He was quite handsome before... Before. Now I just need to get the bike from  _ _ Hagrid _ _ and I’ll be well on my way to being a disappointing degenerate like my godfather.  _

_ I miss you so much, you bloody tosser. You’d better plan to make it for Easter to make it up to me. Tell your mum I said hi.  _

_ Harry  _

_ P.S. I know how this is gonna sound but I gotta know. Was Blaise  _

_ P.P.S. You know what,  _ _ never mind _ _.  _

_ P.P.P.S. I miss kissing you. And holding your hand. And feeling your fingers in my hair. I miss you. And I think I might hate you for it.  _

_ 25 December 1998  _

_ I don’t hate you. I never hated you. It’s just...I’m sorry. It’s Christmas and I’m surrounded by Weasleys and Hermione and Andromeda and Teddy and I have to look at his sweet, little face on his first Christmas and know that his parents are dead because  _

_ Fuck it. I’m sorry, Draco. Just...don’t worry about it. Sorry I’m bringing down your holiday with this bullshit. Enjoy the rest of it with your mum. Andromeda says that if you or your mother wish to tell her anything, then you can say it yourselves. Her words, not mine. And Teddy waves both hands, which are covered in sweet potato that he is doing his best to get it on every surface of the kitchen.  _

_ Don’t hate me for being an absolute nutter. Please? Maybe The bloody Prophet had it right all along.  _

_ Harry _

Draco stared down at the second letter. It had arrived roughly two hours after the first. The parchment had evidence of Teddy Lupin all over it. Splotched sweet potato and tiny fingerprints that had smeared the not-quite dry ink. Something about the solid proof of Teddy’s existence hit Draco like a bludger to the stomach. Somewhere, across the Channel, in a small country house, Harry Potter had sat and fed sweet potato to a seven-month-old infant that was Draco’s cousin. The thought was almost enough to make him laugh. Almost. He would gladly take that over the feeling he had reading Harry’s last two letters. 

The incomplete thoughts that Harry had refused to write out were possibly the worst things he had ever not read. As though seeing his thoughts in black and white, ink on parchment, would make it too real. And he knew that Harry was still struggling. Draco could see it in all of the things he didn’t write. He could see it in the faint oil marks on some of his letters, where Harry had fallen asleep and his unwashed face had pressed to the parchment. And he could see it in the slight singes where cigarette ash had fallen. His struggle was present in the misspelled and missing words that Harry’s fatigued and overworked mind couldn’t process. 

And then there was the issue of Blaise. It had been a short and fairly pointless fling. Strictly physical as they had little in common. Blaise and his mother had stayed well out of the war, perhaps the only Slytherin who had. He’d had absolutely no understanding of what Draco had gone through or experienced. Draco supposed that he was intelligent enough, but their interests were so different that they couldn’t even really have intellectual conversation. 

Draco knew that Harry had absolutely hated the whole thing. He had never asked about Blaise and Draco never mentioned him, save to tell Harry that they were casually seeing each other. In their correspondence, Harry had been civil and understanding. Merlin only knew how he had actually reacted. But he was rather impressed with Harry. If things had been different, if it had been Harry who had started casually seeing one of his old dormmates, Draco wasn’t sure he would have been as civil about it all. The only thing Harry had said about it all, up until now, was that he wanted Draco to be happy. And wasn’t that just so Harry Potter of him? 

And, of course, the one bitter and angry comment Harry had wanted to say he couldn’t even make himself write out. But Draco was rather certain he knew what Harry had wanted to ask. Was Blaise better in bed than Harry? Was Blaise better to talk to? Was Blaise better to spend time with? Was Blaise better? Was he better than Harry? The best thing Draco could say of Blaise was that the man was born to suck cock. Unsurprising since Blaise had always been a bit of a slag.

He almost wished that Harry had just asked. But he knew it was never something that Harry could write down and send to him. Harry only said those sorts of things in the heat of the moment. When he was angry and hurt. When he had been drinking. It wasn’t something he could see written down and still send to Draco. It required too much forethought and reflection. And Harry seemed to be avoiding reflection on his thoughts and actions. 

“Another letter? Harry doesn’t usually send two in one day.” Narcissa frowned as she entered the small breakfast nook that served as their dining room. “Is everything all right?” 

“For the most part.” Draco sighed and set the letter down. “The holiday appears to be hitting him a bit harder than he thought.”

“Well and as I recall he was already dreading the  season, wasn’t he?” Narcissa s et the kettle to boil. They had had a relatively quiet holiday. Just the two of them. In their small Paris flat.  His mother had briefly mentioned going to see Lucius  but neither of them were ready  to see him behind bars in Azkaban.  Draco especially. Because it could have so easily been him  in a cold, dark cell. 

“He was.” Draco ran a hand through his hair. “Teddy is keeping him busy it seems at least.” He gave his mother a slight smile as she set a cup of tea in front of him. 

“May I?” She rested just her fingertips on the parchment and Draco frowned. Was there anything in this letter that  was not for his mother’s eyes? 

“Of course.” Draco waved a  hand vaguely as he reached for the cup. After  the incident on Samhain, Narcissa always asked to read Harry’s missives. He had a suspicion that she wanted to see if there was anything worrying that Draco wasn’t telling her. Or that perhaps he didn’t see himself.  She frowned as she set the parchment back down. 

“At least he is spending time with his family and away from that house.” She took a sip of her tea and tilted her head. “Perhaps you could invite Harry to come and visit for New Years. I shudder to think what he may get up to otherwise.” 

“Honestly, I think he was planning to work.” Draco held the tea in his hands and sighed softly at the warmth. The green hoodie that Harry had sent him was just a little too big and the sleeves fell over his hands. 

“Work? Is he a full-fledged Auror now?” 

“Not quite. He is a Junior Auror still in training but none of the senior officers or anyone else wants to work the holidays. So, Harry volunteers. He had tried to work through Christmas, but I think Molly may have put her foot down.”

“Good.” Narcissa sighed and glanced out the small window into Paris. It wasn’t a spectacular view. No Eiffel Tower in the distance. Or even the Seine. Just more of Paris. “You should ask him to visit. I am sure he would love to see the city. And spend some time with you.” 

“I think it’s best if we keep the English Channel between us for now.” Draco pulled his feet up onto the chair and hugged his knees to his chest. “I’m worried about him. Of course. And I miss him. I just...” He wasn’t entirely sure what he just. It was difficult to explain. But he knew that any intimate relationship between Harry and himself would not be healthy at this juncture. He had spoken with his mind healer about it extensively. And she had agreed that not only should Draco avoid a romantic entanglement with Harry but with anybody. 

_ “You need to be healthy yourself before you can pursue truly healthy relationships.” _ She had told him.  _ “And I don’t think that anyone that survived that war is exactly healthy right now. Not just you and not just Harry.”  _

“ My love...do you truly think that if you asked and made your boundaries very clear, that Harry would cross them?” 

“It’s not just Harry that I have to worry about.” Draco gave his mother a wry smile. “I have never had very good impulse control where Harry Potter is concerned.” Especially not now when he knew the sounds that Harry made when he had Draco’s cock buried in his  arse . That made it even more difficult to maintain control. 

“I know. It is entirely up to you, of course. I merely wanted to let you know that should you wish to have him stay with  us, he is more than welcome.” Narcissa kissed the top of his head. “Is he seeing anyone?” 

“Not that he’s mentioned.” Draco tilted his head to look at her. “Why?” 

“I was just curious.” Narcissa lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug as she returned to the window. “Your brief tryst with Mr.  Zabini seemed to temper your own feelings regarding Harry. Perhaps he simply needs to do the same.” 

Draco frowned at his lukewarm tea. Blaise had helped to satiate his physical needs quite well. But his emotional needs had still been fulfilled primarily by his mother and Harry. And, while in the moment he enjoyed what he and Blaise did, in the direct aftermath he couldn’t help but miss the way Harry looked at him in those same scenarios. Had his fling with Blaise really effected the way he felt about Harry at all? Reluctantly, he had to agree it may have a bit. 

Between his studies and the nights spent with Blaise, Draco had certainly spent less time focused on Harry. Every letter that Harry had sent him in that time had been as long and detailed as the ones prior to Samhain. But Draco knew that his own missives had grown short and vague. At first, he felt immense guilt that he wasn’t there for Harry in the way that he needed. His mind healer had reminded him that it wasn’t up to him to care for Harry. And of course, in each and every letter that Harry sent, he was just so bloody understanding. 

_ “I know you’re busy, Draco.”  _

_ “Don’t worry about it!”  _

_ “Tell your mum I said hi!”  _

_ “Kreacher misses you and I keep telling him you have better things to do than visit this dodgy, old house.”  _

_ “Let me know how things are going when you have time!” _

Draco wondered how much of that was genuine and how much was Harry forcing himself to be understanding. He imagined that quite a bit was forced. And he hated that Harry felt the need to try and be what he thought Draco wanted. More than that, he hated the idea that Harry was trying so hard to be what he thought Draco wanted and it still wasn’t what Draco wanted. At least in Harry’s fucked up mind. 

The truly troubling aspect of what his mother had said was the red, hot jealousy that he felt at the mere suggestion of Harry with someone else. Some irrational part of him was convinced that Harry was his. Harry belonged to and with Draco and nobody else. The hypocrisy was, of course, appalling. Draco had fucked Blaise and snogged him and danced with him in Parisian bars. Why should Harry not have the same opportunities to explore his sexuality?  Of course he should. But just the thought made Draco clench his fists and want to be sick. 

“Sweetheart?” His mother’s voice called him back from his thoughts. He glanced over at her and offered her a small smile. 

“Maybe.” Draco drained the last of his tea. Narcissa crossed her arms over her chest and sighed softly. 

“I did not mean to upset you.” 

“I’m not.” Draco shrugged as he stood to place his cup in the sink. 

“Does the idea of someone else with Harry truly bother you so much?” 

“Of course not. We’re both adults. We’re not in a relationship. He is free to do whatever he wishes.” 

“As you did?” Narcissa raised an eyebrow. 

“No. Yes! I. ..fine . It bothers me. The idea of Harry dating. And I know that it shouldn’t. I had...whatever I had with Blaise. But Harry is different. People want him for his name or his money or his fame. How would he ever know who truly cares about him and who simply wants The Chosen One. He...He will get hurt.” 

“I mean this in the most loving way possible, Draco.” Narcissa laid her hands on his shoulders and squeezed gently. “But I believe he has already endured being hurt by someone he was intimate with.” Draco winced. “And he is doing...as well as can be expected. I do not doubt that he cares deeply for you. However, you  leaving London and dating Mr.  Zabini are not the only troubles that he has.” 

“Do you really think I have hurt him badly?” Draco hated how small his voice was. He hated how he leaned into his mother. 

“Oh, my Dragon.” She pulled him into a hug and stroked his hair. “I think that you both made the best decision you could have. It was mature to keep your relationship but to keep it platonic. But that does not mean it did not hurt. And despite that, it does not mean that your tryst with someone else did not hurt him either. The course of true love never did run smooth.” 

“I think it’s a bit early to speak of true love, don’t you, Mother?” 

“If this damned war has taught any of us anything, it is that love is the strongest and most mysterious power on this earth. It does not abide by logic or rules of mortal men. Love transcends time and space. It cannot even be ruled nor stopped by death. Not one of us can predict what love has in store for us. You may be surprised.” 

“I suppose you have a point.” Draco sighed softly. He pulled back to kiss his mother’s cheek. “But I would rather not contemplate such heavy topics before bed. And on my day off.” 

“All right, then.” Narcissa gave him a smile. “I love you, my dragon.” 

“And I love you, Mother.” She gave him a gentle smile before she turned and departed for her room. Draco sighed softly and stood alone in the kitchen for another moment. He wasn’t quite ready to retire for the evening yet. His thoughts were swirling in a bit of a chaotic mess. And focused on Harry for the most part. The irritating and undeniable truth was that Draco missed him rather fiercely. He pulled the collar of the hoodie up and took a deep inhale. It smelled of Harry. Of that  firewhiskey his great Uncle Orion kept in the cellars. Of those Muggles cigarettes. Of the body wash that Harry used. Pine and mossy woods. 

The thing that Draco missed the most about Harry was how simple it was to talk to him. It was still shocking just how similar and yet drastically different their experiences were. And Harry never tried to tell Draco that he knew exactly how he was feeling. Or that he was overreacting. Or that surely it couldn’t have been that bad. Blaise had made him feel so invalidated. In his thoughts, his feelings, his nightmares. Harry knew all too well how cruel life was. Not just for him but for everyone. And he didn’t count himself amongst those who had suffered more than most. 

Draco sighed heavily and made his way to the living room. Perhaps he would get some reading done for the spring semester before he went to bed. It would hopefully take his mind off of things that he couldn’t have just now. And maybe instead of nightmares featuring red eyes, giant snakes, cruel laughter, he could dream of healing. And not of warm, tan skin and black hair and bright, green eyes. 

As though summoned directly from his mind's eye, the low fire that was burning in the hearth flared to life in sharp green flames. He frowned. Who would be calling on Christmas night? All that followed was a simple piece of parchment. Even more unusual. Sending messages through  Floo instead of owl was usually only reserved for emergency. He moved over to the fireplace and picked up the piece of parchment. And immediately felt all the blood drain from his face. 

_ 25 December 1998  _

_ Dear Mr. Malfoy,  _

_ You have been listed as an emergency contact for one Mr. Harry James Potter. Your presence is requested at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries at your earliest convenience. Please bring this notice with you to present to our greeting witch to gain access to Mr. Potter’s room. Thank you and have a pleasant evening.  _

_ Regards,  _

_ Healer Liam  _ _ Matternan _

Draco felt behind him blindly for the sofa and managed to collapse onto it. His hands were shaking. As he stared at the trembling parchment in his hand, he remembered that the rates of suicide skyrocketed during the holiday season. And after those last two letters... Please don’t let him have done something stupid. 

“Mother!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry? A little? It's nothing dire. I could never. Stay tuned! Chapter three is coming soon!


	3. I Can't Remember The Last Thing That You Said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is only too happy to spend the remaining hours of Christmas at work. But with Death Eaters still roaming free, it won't be a quiet graveyard shift tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in the update! Work was a shitshow and now I'm finally on vacation!

“Are you sure you can’t stay longer?” Andi carefully took a sleeping Teddy out of Harry’s arms. His hair had settled into a dark black as soon as Harry had Apparated into the kitchen this afternoon. 

“I need to get to work.” Harry did his best to look put out about that. He wasn’t sure he had really succeeded. Andi frowned. 

“I know that the Ministry likes to think of you as this big, bad Auror already, Harry, but you are still technically training. You will have a fully-fledged Auror with you, won’t you?” 

“Of course, Andi. The senior  Aurors don’t like it when we touch anything in the office without one of them present.” While this was generally true, it wouldn’t be tonight. Nobody wanted to work over the holidays. But especially the night shift Christmas Day. Harry had jumped at the chance to take the graveyard shifts from now until New Years. It was the perfect way to try and avoid the majority of his nightmares by cutting down on sleep and he wouldn’t have senior  Aurors hovering over his shoulder for 12 hours. He bristled even now at her suggestion that he needed a babysitter. He had defeated the most powerful dark wizard in a generation. He could handle petty theft on  Knockturn Alley, thanks ever so. 

“Well, all right. Do be safe, Harry.” She looked for a moment like she might hug him before she thought better of it. Instead she gave him a smile and a single pat on the shoulder. 

“I always am.” Harry did his best to say this with a straight face. He leaned over and kissed Teddy’s cheek. “Happy Christmas, Little Moons.” Harry ignored Andi’s disgruntled frown at his nickname for the sleeping baby. “Happy Christmas, Andi. Thanks again for having me.” 

“Of course. You are always welcome to spend time with Teddy.” She gave him another smile. Harry managed to return it. 

His relationship with Andromeda Tonks could only be described as strained politeness. Clearly they had to be around each other for Teddy’s sake but it wasn’t easy. Harry blamed himself for the death of her daughter. And her husband. And he thinks that some part of Andi agrees. And at the same time, she has told him that he is strictly forbidden to apologize to her again. 

“It simply is not fair to me, Harry.” She had sat him down one day. “I am mourning the loss of my daughter. The loss of my husband. Raising my grandson. And every time you  apologize or I can see the way you blame  yourself, I then feel guilty for grieving. I cannot be responsible for easing your guilt. You have  apologized . I have accepted it. We will speak of it no more.” He had agreed but their relationship hadn’t improved much. 

Harry turned and Apparated straight to the Auror offices. It was almost disturbingly quiet. Usually these offices were buzzing with people and there was constant movement. Even the couple graveyard shifts he had worked before had been fairly loud and raucous. But not tonight. Most of the lights on the floor were off and there was only the soft sound of paperwork being shuffled about. 

“Ah, Potter. There ya are.” Auror Merryweather’s commanding voice cut through the otherwise quiet room. Nigel Merryweather was one of the older Aurors on the force. He had lived through the first war with Tom Riddle and his followers. Not nearly as renowned as Alastor Moody but every bit as rough around the edges. Harry had been reminded of constant vigilance from his senior Auror more than once. 

“Evening, Auror Merryweather.” Harry headed straight for the small break room that was on the  Aurors floor. There was a much larger breakroom for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as a whole but the Auror breakroom had everything that Harry needed at the moment. Coffee and cigarettes. Sometime during the conflict with Grindelwald, Aurors had discovered the joys of Muggle cigarettes. They became something of a staple in the department after that. 

“No need to stand on formality tonight, Potter. Nobody but junior  Aurors and the most senior  Aurors we got. And trust me, they’ll be sleepin’ all night.” Nigel waved his hand in the direction of the single, tatty couch in the breakroom where Senior Auror Blackwell was snoring softly. Rumor had it that he had been around during Grindelwald’s time as well. 

“Anything to report?” Harry asked as he poured himself a large mug of coffee. The whole department functioned on coffee, cigarettes, power naps, and sheer spite most days. 

“Nope. Been fairly--” Nigel cut himself off. “Sorry, Potter. Almost  Macbethed ya there.” It was a standing, unspoken rule in the Aurors. And at St. Mungo’s from what Harry heard. One never, ever uttered the words quiet, slow, dead, or in any way implied that the day has been uneventful up to that point. 

“See, it’s like  sayin ’ Macbeth in a theatre. As soon as someone says it’s quiet or slow, all hell breaks loose.” Nigel had explained to Harry over pints one evening. “The Brockdale Bridge incident...some wanker had just said what a slow day it’d been. Can you imagine? In the middle of another uprisin’ with You-Know-Who? Sayin’ it’s been a slow day? Almost killed the bastard myself.” 

“ Nothin ’ much to report. A couple people  claimin ’ to have spotted rogue Death Eaters but nothin’ worth gettin’ into right now.” 

“Anyone important?” Harry held the mug in his cold hands and let the warmth seep into his bones. The downside of not eating regularly: he was always cold now. 

“Oh, the usual. Greyback spotted near the Tower of London  chasin ’ ravens, Yaxley  cursin ’ mistletoe near Abbey Road, Dolohov lurkin’ about Islington, You-Know-Who himself dressed as Saint Nick. Usual batshite sightings that pop up around the holidays. Older folks who don’t got  nothin ’ better to do.” Harry frowned into his coffee mug. Dolohov in Islington? That one had some sanity to it. Maybe he’d look into that one. What a happy Christmas it would be if Harry could get his  hands on Dolohov. 

“All right. Well, you should head out. Go spend time with your family.” Harry did his best to give Nigel a smile. 

“Don’t do  nothin ’ stupid, Potter. Just keep the place from burning down.”

“To be fair, sir, stupid usually finds me.” He grinned at Nigel who merely rolled his eyes. 

“Even stupid has to take a holiday.” He clapped Harry on the shoulder. “Take it easy tonight. See ya tomorrow, Potter.” 

“See you.” Harry watched Nigel disappear down the hall to the lifts. Blackwell was still sleeping on the ancient sofa. He knew Senior Auror Johnston was around here somewhere as well as Junior Auror Stimpson. She had been a couple years ahead of Harry at Hogwarts. He wasn’t sure how much good she would do in the  field but she was smart and quick in training. She just needed to manage her stress. 

Harry refilled his mug and decided to look into the reported Death Eater sightings. There could be something to at least one of them. Greyback was likely killed in the battle back in May but it couldn’t be confirmed.  So there were still reports flooding in of people claiming to see him all over the UK. Much more reliable sources placed Yaxley somewhere on the continent. The Russians were looking into reports on their end. But Dolohov... 

Dolohov was the one that stuck with Harry. Especially after having spent the better part of the day with Teddy. Antonin Dolohov had killed Remus Lupin and who knew how many others. And Harry wanted him behind bars. Truth be told, Harry wanted to kill him with his bare hands. But Kingsley would likely frown upon that and then sack Harry. And then what would Harry find to fill his days and nights with? More drinking probably. 

“Evening, Harry!” Patricia called from her desk in the corner. “Have a good Christmas?” 

“Was all right. Yours?” 

“Nothing special. Bit of a somber affair this year.” 

“Yeah...” Harry didn’t particularly want to talk about the gaping hole that Fred and Remus and Tonks had left behind. “Merryweather said we got some Death Eater sightings?”

“Oh yeah. Some rather festive ones today. At least the  nutters are getting into the spirit of the season, huh?” She gave him a cheeky smile. 

“Can’t wait to see what they come up with for the Easter  hols .” Harry took a gulp of his coffee. “Do you have them or do I need to track down Johnston?”

“You’re not actually going to look into them are you?” Patricia gave him a dubious look while she gave him a once over. “Have you eaten or slept at all today?” 

“Of course, I have. It’s Christmas.” Harry bristled at the implication in her look and her questioning. “And we technically have to investigate every report. Never know when we might get lucky.” 

“Unless you had some Felix Felicis, I wouldn’t count on it.” She reached for a stack of parchment and handed it over. “Knock yourself out.” 

“Thanks.” Harry took the parchment and moved over to his desk. Unfortunately, Junior  Aurors didn’t get the luxury of having a private office. Their desks were out in the open on the floor. Easier for the  Aurors and Senior  Aurors to shout things at them and send them on errands for records and pastries. 

Harry dropped the stack of parchment on his desk and then dropped himself into his desk chair. He settled in with his coffee and pulled a cigarette from his pack. Harry snapped his fingers and the end of the cigarette ignited. He couldn’t help the small grin. Lighting his cigarettes without his wand was one of the few tricks Harry had learned to perform. He was working on a few others but this one was the most useful. 

He took a long drag from his cigarette as he picked up the first parchment. The reports ranged from a few days ago to a few hours ago. Apparently nobody had deemed any of them worth further investigation until next year. Harry heaved a sigh, releasing the smoke from his lungs. They were never going to track down and capture the remaining Death Eaters like this. Merryweather had tried once to tell Harry that he needed to relax and stop being so intense about the whole thing. Harry had shattered every lightbulb on the floor and Merryweather never brought it up again. For Harry, all of this was personal. 

There were plenty of reports to look  through but he was interested in Dolohov. He sifted through the parchments until he spied the name he was looking for. Antonin Dolohov had been spotted skulking about Islington at approximately 1800 by a  Muggleborn leaving his  parents house that evening. Harry glanced at the time. 1927. That was pretty damn recent. Who needed Felix Felicis? 

The question remained, what was Dolohov doing there? Harry continued to skim the report and felt his blood run cold. Dolohov had been spotted near  Grimmauld Place. Fuck. He had been one of the Death Eaters assigned to watch 12  Grimmauld Place more than a year ago. Harry had seen his face across the way enough times to know. Was he hoping to catch Harry unawares on Christmas? Maybe Ron and Hermione too? A shudder ran down his spine at the thought of Dolohov getting to any more of his loved ones.

Well, looked like Harry had to stop by at home. He set the parchment to the side and took a long drag from his cigarette. Might as well finish his cigarette and his coffee before he headed out. Harry glanced over at Patricia and contemplated informing her of the situation. No, she would insist on informing Blackwell and Johnston. And they would insist on waiting until tomorrow. Or next week. And then the report would be lost in the stack of reports that flooded in daily. And Dolohov would evade capture yet again. And Harry could not allow that to happen. Not on his watch. 

Antonin Dolohov was no pushover Death Eater. The man had been in Azkaban longer than Sirius. And he had committed the crimes that put him there. He had nearly killed Hermione at the Department of Mysteries. He had killed Remus Lupin. The last of the Marauders. The last friend of his father’s. The last father figure Harry had. There were still so many things that Harry had wanted to ask him. He wanted to hear more stories about his mum. About his dad. About Sirius. Did it bother his dad that two of his best mates were queer and shagging each other? 

Dolohov had robbed Harry of all of that. He had robbed Teddy of his own father and a chance at a normal life. He had robbed Molly of her brothers and her children of their uncles. And who knew how many other lives this man had robbed. And as far as Harry was concerned, he was done robbing people. As of tonight. Harry drained his coffee mug and set it down on his desk. He stood from his chair and stretched. 

Harry found that he was a bit lightheaded. Probably due to too much caffeine and not enough food. And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a decent night's sleep. Even last night, in the Burrow, surrounded by his adopted family, the nightmares had come. He had woken Christmas morning with a choked off scream and was grateful he hadn’t woken the rest of the house. Or even the rest of Ron’s room. He ran a hand through his hair.  So he wasn’t at his best. But he hadn’t necessarily been at his best when he defeated Riddle either. He had been running on pure adrenaline that entire day. He could take on Dolohov. No problem.

He patted himself down. Wand, check. Badge, check. Cigarettes, check. Harry ran a hand through his hair and then adjusted his jacket. Molly had helped him to resize Sirius’ jacket without damaging it. It still hung loose on his  frame but it would do. He took a deep breath and glanced around the office. Patricia was bent over her paperwork and didn’t seem to notice her surroundings at all. If he strained himself, he could hear Blackwell still snoring in the break room. And Johnston was likely closed up in his office. If he was even here. No time like the present. With another steadying breath, Harry Apparated home. 

“Master Harry is being home early...” Kreacher looked at him suspiciously from the dining room. 

“Not home. Just dropping by. Strictly Auror business, Kreacher.” He gave the elf a cheeky grin. Kreacher merely stared back. 

“Master Harry is wearing Master Sirius jacket. Both masters are bringing such shameful things in this house.” Kreacher’s voice faded as he moved further into the house. Harry rolled his eyes. He moved to the front windows and moved the dusty, old curtains aside to peer out into the dark street. How many hours had he spent doing this last year? Keeping an eye on the Death Eaters loitering around outside, waiting to catch a glimpse of them? Harry shook his head. The war is over. It’s just one Death Eater. 

And sure enough. There was someone lurking in the shadows across the square. His eyes fixed on the house. Harry let the curtain fall back and almost lunged for the door. But no. He couldn’t very well duel Dolohov in the middle of Muggle London. On the other hand, what choice did he have? A few Muggles needing an  Oblivate was worth catching Dolohov. 

Harry pulled his wand from his jacket and reached for the doorknob. The Fidelius Charm would cover him until he started down the steps to the street. He yanked open the front door and stepped out onto the stoop. The man in the shadows straightened up. Good, Harry had his attention. He started down the steps, months of guilt and anger and anguish roiling through him. One of them was going to die tonight. Fuck Azkaban. Dolohov would pay for the lives he had taken with his own. 

“Getting sloppy aren’t you?” Harry called to the other wizard. After a moment, Dolohov stepped out from the shadows. “No Glamour, no Polyjuice, letting yourself get spotted by a  Muggleborn ? Tsk, tsk.” 

“I’m not the one getting sloppy, Potter.” Dolohov sneered. “You are the one that showed up without backup.” Two more shadows suddenly appeared on either of the square. Fuck. This had been a trap from the start. And Harry had walked right into it. 

“What makes you think I don’t have backup?” Harry glanced to the newcomers. Yaxley. Damn. And Rowle. “You boys decided to come home for Christmas then? If  I’d’ve known I might have gotten you gifts.” 

“What better gift than the Boy Who Lived Twice walking right into our hands?” Yaxley cackled. “You have quite the habit of walking to your death, boy.” 

“Yeah, I ‘ spose you’re right.” Harry shrugged. He twirled his wand in his hands. “But then, I’m still here. Your boss on the other hand...” All three surged forward. 

“Enough! We need to take him alive. Can’t have your gruesome murder be quite so hidden. We’re aiming for something a little more...public.” Dolohov smirked. 

“ So which one of you is going to be taking the title of Dark Lord then?” Harry glanced around at the three Death Eaters. “Surely, that’s the plan, right? Publicly murder Harry Potter and start another uprising. My money is on Dolohov. Smarter than either of you. And more powerful. The most powerful Death Eater. Short of Snape and Bellatrix. But...well, they went the way of Riddle, didn’t they?” 

“SILENCE!” Rowle shouted and charged forward. Harry easily deflected the curse with a quick protego. He shot back an incarcerous and Rowle stumbled to the ground. 

“See? Not the brightest Death Eater in the bunch. Or should it be darkest?” Harry moved further into the square. Yaxley and Dolohov had their wands trained on him. “Two against one? Don’t you lot usually like five against one? You know, when you’re  dueling actual children.” 

“Shut your mouth, you filthy  halfblood !” Yaxley growled. 

“I am a  halfblood . And this  halfblood defeated your precious Lord Voldemort. And I’m about to drop you all on Azkaban’s doorstep. What does that say about you inbred, purebloods?” 

“How dare you!” Yaxley fired a curse that Harry ducked and rolled to avoid. 

“Control yourself, Yaxley.” Dolohov hissed. “He’s trying to wind us up.” 

“Told you he was smarter.” Harry jerked his head toward Dolohov. “How has it been? Stealing scraps of food out of the bin? Running for your lives? Fallen pretty far from your pureblood pedestals I would say. At least Azkaban will give you a roof over your head and at least one meal a day. I can’t speak to the quality of the meal. Probably not up to your standards. Oh, but, you already know that, don’t you, Antonin?” 

“I’ll teach you to hold your tongue!” Yaxley threw another curse followed quickly by a jinx. Harry managed to dodge the curse but caught  the flipendo. While he struggled back up, Harry cast a shield charm and then fired off an expelliarmus in Yaxley’s directions. He held his hand out and caught Yaxley’s wand. Nice to know he could still do that. 

“You little brat!” Yaxley howled and Harry shot him with an  incarcerous as well. 

“Well, just you and me, Dolohov.” 

“So it would seem.” 

“But then, I think this is how you wanted it.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Considering you did little to nothing to help your buddies here.” Harry gestured at Rowle and Yaxley. “They were really only ever going to be back up. You  wanna take me out yourself.” They started to circle each other in the square. 

“You think you are so smart, don’t you, Potter?” Dolohov sneered. “Precious Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Vanquisher of the Dark Lord.” 

“Please, just Harry is fine.” Harry waved a dismissive wave at him. 

“But then, the  rumours going around the pureblood circles.” He grinned but it looked more like a snarl. “After all that hard work to bring down the Dark Lord, I hear you are all too eager to bend over and submit for little Draco.” Harry only faltered for a moment, but it was enough for Dolohov. “Are the rumours true then? Harry Potter is shagging Draco Malfoy?” He laughed, the sound echoing off the surrounding buildings, distorting the noise. It sounded higher pitched. Familiar. 

“That’s quite the  rumour mill  you purebloods have.” Harry glared at him. 

“Well, there is so very little else to do when you own the world.” 

“Too bad you don’t anymore.” 

“What would your father say? His sweet, little Gryffindor in bed with a snake?” His laugh and the look in eyes verged on manic. “He’s rolling in his grave I have no doubt.” Dolohov gasped. “And your precious Professor Lupin.” 

“Don’t you dare say his name.” Harry hissed, his body tense and almost vibrating. 

“After everything that Draco and Severus did while he was at that school. Getting him sacked. How did he even manage to survive after--” 

“CRUCIO!” For a moment Harry didn’t know where the voice had come from. Until he saw the jet of light leave his wand and strike Dolohov in the chest. It hadn’t even sounded like his voice. He wondered vaguely if he was under an  imperius . It didn’t even feel like he was in his body. Dolohov’s screams didn’t even register for several minutes. Finally, his body went limp and Harry could hear his panting breaths.

“Come now, Harry. We both know you can do better than that.” Dolohov raised his head and spit blood onto the pavement. “Would you like to know how he died? His last words perhaps?” Harry was heaving, gasping for breath. 

“CRUCIO!” He hadn’t meant to say it again. He had meant to disarm Dolohov and contain him. Like Carrow had several months before, Dolohov rose into the air. The sounds coming from his mouth inhuman as Harry held his wand on him. Lights were switching on in houses,  neighbours stepping out of their front doors, voices shouting to call the police. Harry dropped his wand and Dolohov crumpled to the ground.

Harry stood, frozen in the square in front of his house. Why was he shaking? Surely Harry wasn’t that cold. But his entire body trembled and vibrated. The world was fuzzy around the edges and he felt vaguely as though he might be ill. What had happened? What had he done? 

“ I’m almost impressed. That rivaled the Dark Lord himself.” Dolohov finally managed to stand again. Harry blanched and before he could stop himself, he turned his back on the Death Eater and vomited. When the sound of blood rushing in his ears subsided, he could hear Dolohov cackling. “Idiot boy! Do they teach you nothing in the  Aurors ? Never turn your back in a duel!” 

There was too much noise. People shouting and screaming. The sound of Voldemort’s laugh echoing off the stone walls of the courtyard. Where were Ron and Hermione? Draco...was Draco safe? Had they all escaped the Room of Requirement? Had the Forest happened yet? Everything was disjointed and out of order. Harry tried to blink but his eyes wouldn’t focus. He was dizzy and the sound of sirens was muffled in the distance. Sirens? There were no sirens at Hogwarts? 

“Let me show you how it’s really done!” That voice shouted at him across the courtyard. No. ..across the square.  Grimmauld Place. Dolohov. Harry heaved in a breath and turned to face him again. 

“EXPELLIARMUS!” 

“Internum cruenta!” 

Harry held his hand out for Dolohov’s  wand but he never had the chance to catch it. It arched into the air and seemed to be moving through molasses. The world slowed and quieted as  Grimmauld melted away once more. This was it. Voldemort would finally be over. Purple light flashed before him. Harry had just enough time to wonder about the copper putting Voldemort in handcuffs before the world exploded into pure agony and everything went black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be soon! Since work won't get in my way! Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Internum cruenta roughly translates to internal bleeding. In searching for what curse I wanted Harry to be hit with, I came across Dolohov's unnamed and unspecified curse. It sounded like it incurred internal damage of some kind. I'll go into more detail about my own thoughts on what this curse does in the next chapter.


	4. The Smell of Hospitals in Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco arrives at St. Mungos in the quiet, midnight hours of Christmas desperately worried and hoping that Harry is all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um...yikes. I am so sorry for the late update. And here I thought posting a holiday fic in September was a bad idea. Guess it's at least in season now? Thank you to everyone who has commented and left kudos. You guys kept me going on this chapter when I had zero motivation. Unsurprisingly, work has been a clusterfuck. And your support has meant so much to me. I hope this was worth the wait!

Draco stepped out of the  Floo and into St. Mungo’s. The clean, sterile smell was immediately calming to his frazzled nerves. He took a deep breath and held it in his lungs for a moment. Perhaps if he held it long enough, it could help cleanse some of the anxiety. Finally, he pulled the note from his back pocket and approached the greeting witch. 

“May I help you?” Her tone was polite but icy. And the look on her face told him that she knew exactly who he was. 

“Good evening.” Draco forced a tight smile. “I am here to see a patient.” He handed her the notice and did not break eye contact with her. She glanced at the parchment, back up at him, and then back to the parchment. Ah, she wondered if he had cursed it. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes and scream that they did not have time for this, Draco set the parchment down in front of her and stepped back. 

The woman leaned over the parchment and inspected it carefully. Draco started to tap his foot impatiently as he heard the  Floo flare up behind him. The sound of his mother’s sensible but fashionable heels on the tiles floor soothed his anxiety. She stepped up behind him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. The greeting witch finally picked up the parchment and cast a quick spell. She pursed her lips but handed the parchment back to Draco. 

“Fourth floor, Mr. Malfoy.” 

“Thank you.” He nodded his head and then hurried around her desk to the lifts. Draco could hear his mother following behind him. Spell damage. Spell damage. That was too broad a category to really have any clue what had happened. And the lifts were taking too bloody long. 

“It will be all right, sweetheart.” Mother whispered beside him. “Harry is strong. It will be all right.” Draco leaned back against her for a moment until the lift finally arrived. What had Harry been doing? Was he still at Andromeda’s? The Burrow?  Grimmauld ? No. No, damn it all. He had been on duty. Had the idiot gone out to play the hero again? 

When the lift doors opened on the fourth floor, Draco expected it to be chaos. He had anticipated a gaggle of Weasleys pacing and fretting. Perhaps even his aunt with his little cousin. Maybe a pack of  Aurors or healers running about. Instead, he was shocked by the quiet stillness of the ward. No visitors or family members. A  mediwitch at her station and a healer hunched over a pile of parchment. He glanced at his mother but didn’t voice his disquiet at the lack of other people. 

“Good evening. I am here to see a patient.” Draco handed the  mediwitch his parchment once more and she took it without glancing up at him. She scanned the document quickly before setting it aside. 

“The healers are still in with him. Take a seat and Healer  Matternan will be with you shortly.” She gestured vaguely to the rows of plastic chairs. Draco huffed and opened his mouth to demand that she at least look at him. Narcissa gently squeezed his arm and started guiding him to the chairs. 

“I know you are worried, my little dragon, but breathing fire at the staff will do nothing to ease that.” His mother pushed him gently to sit before taking the seat next to him. 

“...I should have come back for Yule.” Draco sighed and dropped his head in his hands. 

“This has nothing to do with you, sweetheart.” Narcissa took his hand. “Harry was working tonight was he not?” 

“Yes. But--” 

“I am sure that he was merely injured on the job. A fairly common occurrence for an Auror. As I am sure you well know.” 

“Yes, but perhaps if I had been available to see him, he would not have been so adamant to work through the holidays.” 

“Perhaps. But we cannot know for sure.” She squeezed his hand. “It is possible that he would have preferred to spend time with you. But it is equally possible that he would have worked regardless. He is going through a difficult time. As are we all. You cannot blame yourself, Draco. Harry made a choice. One that you are not responsible for.” 

“I know, Mother.” And he did know that she was right. Draco was responsible for himself and his own actions and that was all. He was not responsible for his father or his aunt. Or his friend, sometimes lover. 

One of the doors along the hallway opened and a couple of healers and  mediwizards emerged. They were still talking amongst themselves in hushed tones. One healer and a  mediwizard broke off and headed to the lifts. The other healer started for the  mediwitch station before she stopped. The  mediwitch pointed to Draco and Narcissa and the healer turned back to look at them. She heaved a sigh before she made her way over. 

“I take it you are Mr. Malfoy?” She asked. 

“Yes. Is he going to be all right?” Draco stood from his chair but held on to his mother’s hand. The healer took a deep breath. 

“I’m Healer Matternan. Mr. Potter’s injuries are severe and unfortunately only made worse by his current state.” 

“Current state? What does that mean? What’s happened?” 

“This is a. ..delicate situation, Mr. Malfoy. You are listed as the sole emergency contact on Mr. Potter’s information. However, you are not any kind of relation nor his legal partner. And considering the circumstances, you can understand my hesitancy to share any personal health information with you.

“On the other hand, Mr. Potter has no relation nor legal partner. As his emergency contact, you are the closest thing. I ask that you keep any and all of this information strictly to yourself, Mr. Malfoy. Do I make myself clear?” Draco was reminded briefly of McGonagall. This woman was no nonsense. And seemed invested in doing what was best for her patient. In this case, Harry Potter. 

“Of course. I will not breathe a word. Please. Is he all right?” 

“Mr. Potter suffered severe internal damage. We have, unfortunately, seen this spell work before and Mr. Potter is lucky to be alive.” Healer  Matternan sat in the chair beside the one Draco had vacated. She waited a moment before Draco finally dropped back into the chair. “Mr. Potter had severe internal hemorrhaging caused by a nasty curse.” 

“Dolohov.” Draco breathed the name and felt his stomach drop. He had seen Dolohov perform that curse before. Sometimes as quick as the killing curse itself. But far more painful. He was extremely proud of his curse and all the variations he used. Dolohov’s victims would occasionally suffer a slow, painful death as they slowly bled out. Other times, it would be over before they hit the floor. He swallowed around the bile rising in his throat. 

“By the look on your face, I assume you are familiar with this particular curse.” Draco simply nodded. “We were able to control the bleeding and he’s stable for the moment. The bigger issue lies in Mr. Potter’s physical condition prior to being hit with the curse.” 

“What...I don’t understand. What is wrong with his physical condition?” 

“Mr. Potter was, well is, sleep-deprived and malnourished. He has not been taking care of himself properly. Unfortunately, this is going to significantly slow his healing process. While the bleeding itself is under control, there is still quite a bit of residual damage. He has severe bruising on his ribs as well as to his kidneys and liver and he had significant blood loss before we could stop the bleeding.” 

Draco felt as though the room was spinning around him. He had known, of course he had known, that Harry wasn’t taking care of himself the way he should. But, Merlin, he had thought the idiot was at least eating! And getting enough sleep to get by on. It had never occurred to him that Harry would practically starve himself. Not after what he had learned about his relatives. 

“Is. ..Will he recover?” His voice trembled and he hated it. He hated that Harry could bring out this weakness in him. And he hated this woman for seeing it. Hearing it. 

“Yes. He will recover from his physical maladies.” Healer  Matternan gave him a significant look and he nodded his understanding. Regardless of why Harry was sleep-deprived and not eating, it had no connection to the curse. And Healer Matternan did not deal with healing the mind.

“Can I see him?” Draco managed to choke out the words. 

“He’s still unconscious but you can go in if you want.” She stood and hesitated before gently patting his shoulder once. Draco stood as well and followed her to the room that she had come out of. She opened the door and held it for Draco. “I’ll be right out here if you need anything. He has a few continuous monitoring charms so if anything changes drastically, I’ll know.” 

“Thank you, Healer  Matternan .” Draco turned to look at her and tried to convey the depth of his gratitude without speaking. She gave him a small smile before turning back to the  mediwitch station. He stood near the door of the room for several moments. Draco took a deep breath and moved further into the room. 

Harry was motionless on the single bed in the center of the room. His face was ashen and the rise and fall of his chest slow and smooth. They must have given him Dreamless Sleep. For once he looked peaceful. Draco walked to the bed and swallowed the knot in his throat. He raised his hand and gently ran his fingers through unruly, black curls. At least his hair was clean today. Likely due to his being around the Weasleys for the holiday. 

“You are a bloody idiot, you know that?” Draco whispered. Even that sounded too loud in the quiet room. “A reckless, self-sacrificing idiot.” He dropped into the single, hard plastic chair by the side of the bed. “It’s not enough to torment yourself daily by not sleeping or eating properly. No. Not for you. You have to go after Antonin Dolohov. When you know perfectly well what that man is capable of. 

“Merlin, Harry, what were you thinking?” Draco dropped his head in hands and took a shuddering breath. 

“He was  thinkin ’ that Dolohov killed Remus Lupin.” The gruff male voice shocked Draco out of his near breakdown. He looked up and saw an Auror at the door. He was an older man that had clearly been with the  Aurors for many years. “Funny  seein ’ you here, Malfoy.” 

“You have me at a disadvantage, I am afraid, Auror...?” Draco raised an eyebrow. The Auror quirked a smirk at him as he made his way further into the room. 

“Merryweather. Auror Nigel Merryweather.” He reached the other side of Harry’s hospital bed and sighed. “I’m his sergeant.” Auror Merryweather tilted his chin at Harry. 

“I am very sorry to hear that.” Draco turned his attention back to Harry. “Having attended school with him for six years, I cannot imagine he is an easy charge.” 

“That’s an understatement.” Merryweather scrubbed a hand over his weathered face and sighed. “Still, damn kid’s a hero. And he just bagged three of our most wanted Death Eaters.” 

“Three?” Draco felt as though all the air had been punched out of him. Harry had gone up against  _ three _ Death Eaters?  _ Alone? _

“Yep. Dolohov, Yaxley, and Rowle.” Merryweather crossed his arms over his chest. “Far as we can figure, this bleedin’ idiot walked right into a trap. And still managed to take ‘em down. ‘Course, we did have to Obliviate the whole bloody square and the Muggle coppers that responded to the disturbance.” 

“Disturbance?” Draco frowned at him. Merryweather gave him that odd smirk again. 

“You don’t detain three Death Eaters without a little disturbance.” The smirked dropped after a moment. “Everything I’ve told  ya so far will be public knowledge soon enough. I can’t divulge any more details.” 

“Of course. Auror investigations are confidential.” Draco sighed. 

“I hear the idiot is  gonna make it at least.” 

“You would have to discuss that with the healer. As I am not a licensed yet nor am I his healer. Simply his emergency contact.” Draco kept his eyes fixed on Harry’s motionless eyelids. At least the Dreamless Sleep was working. 

“I wouldn’t linger if I was you. Plenty of  Aurors that thought  ya shoulda been shipped off with your dad.” The tone implied that Merryweather didn’t necessarily disagree. 

“Well, as I was cleared of those charges and have not committed any crime, the  Aurors would have no excuse to even try.” Draco dragged his gaze away from Harry to the older Auror. “I am will be staying by his side until I am sure he has  recovered or he has asked me to leave.” 

“Suit yourself.” Merryweather held his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “Jus’ don’t be surprised if they give  ya trouble.” 

“Of course.” Draco returned his gaze to Harry and did his best to ignore the stare from the older man. Why had he thought that none of the other  Aurors would arrive at some point? He had expected them to be swarming the place when he had arrived. Draco was not looking forward to being surrounded by  Aurors and, eventually, Weasleys. 

“I’ve got a mountain of paperwork thanks to this idiot. The healers will alert me when he wakes up. Expect that’s when the hordes’ll descend.” Merryweather sighed. “Keep an eye on ‘im for me.” Draco nodded without looking up. After another moment of tense silence, the Auror turned and left the room. 

In the silence that followed, Draco allowed himself to press his forehead to the stiff, hospital mattress beside Harry’s shoulder. He took a deep, uneven breath. The scent of the hospital linens overpowered pretty much everything else. Clean, sterile, cold. He could smell a hint of cigarette smoke and coffee and closed his eyes.  _ Oh Harry...what am I going to do with you? _

Draco didn’t remember falling asleep. He must have as his back was practically screaming in protest from being in the uncomfortable position for too long. Slowly, he raised his head to see that Harry was still out. With some effort and a lot of grimacing, Draco sat up in the hideously uncomfortable chair. The room was still  dark so he supposed that he hadn’t been asleep long. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. 

Harry was still unconscious but the Dreamless Sleep must have worn off. His eyes were clearly moving behind his eyelids and a pained grimace had replaced the peaceful expression Harry had worn earlier. It wouldn’t be long before he would wake. Possibly violently if his expression was anything to go by. 

He moved the chair closer to try and offer some semblance of  comfort but it didn’t feel close enough. Draco wanted to be as close to Harry as possible. After a moment of hesitation, he climbed from the chair into the hospital bed beside Harry. He curled himself around Harry as best he could in the limited space. 

“You’re all right, darling. You’re safe now.” Draco ran his fingers through thick, dark hair. “I’m here. You’re safe.” A sound, almost like a whimper, escaped Harry and Draco just resisted the urge to tighten his grip. The last thing he wanted to do was acerbate any of Harry’s injuries. The movement behind his eyelids was almost violent and Harry made another small, wounded sound but he did not wake. Draco frowned and continued to stroke his hair. This was unusual. Harry normally woke from his nightmares fairly quickly when they became this bad. Or he could be coaxed into more peaceful sleep by Draco. 

The door to the room opened and the other h ealer that had been at the  mediwitch station when they had arrived stepped in. He walked over to the bed and scowled at Draco. Draco returned the scowl with a light sneer. 

“I am going to have to ask you to return to the visitor chair,  _ sir _ .” The h ealer stared him down and Draco reluctantly capitulated. “Thank you” 

“Is he all right? This is rather unusual for him.” Draco strived to keep his voice calm and even. He couldn’t appear effected by the situation. Not in front of the likes of this person. 

“Yes, he’s perfectly fine.” The h ealer nodded briefly at the result of his diagnostic spells and turned to leave. 

“I am afraid that I must disagree,  Healer ...?” He saw more than he heard the sigh before the h ealer turned back. 

“He’s having a rare reaction to the Dreamless Sleep. Nothing to be worried about.” He waved his hand as though he could dismiss Draco and his concerns. And nobody dismissed Draco Malfoy. Especially when it came to the people he cared about. Draco stood from the chair and approached the healer. 

“Do you have the slightest inkling of whom you are speaking to?” He drew himself to his full height and adopted his old, haughty attitude from before the war. The h ealer crossed his arms.

“Death Eater spawn?” He looked Draco up and down. “Your wretched father is in Azkaban where he belongs. I’m sure he’s keeping a spare cell warm for you.” 

“You are tantalizingly close.” Draco smirked. “I am Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater, and host to the Dark Lord himself for over two years.” He stepped closer. “I heard things that you could not possibly imagine. I saw things that you could not conjure in your worst nightmares. My wretched father served as his  right-hand man for many years. Have you any idea how many different curses I learned? Not least of which, the very same curse that put him in that bed.  So I suggest that you treat me with a little more respect. And treat Harry Poter with quite a bit more. I should hate to have to contact my dear, old friend Rita Skeeter and tell her about the deplorable standards here at St.  Mungos . And how their healers gave Harry Potter subpar care. That would not do well for the hospital or for you, would it?” The healer had taken several steps back from Draco. “Now, perhaps you could be so kind as to properly introduce yourself and explain to me what, precisely, is happening to my very dear friend.” 

“...Of course.” The h ealer swallowed and Draco gave him a dangerous smile. 

“Thank you.” He motioned the  healer back into the room and followed behind him. Only after the h ealer was beside Harry once more did Draco return to his chair. 

“I am Healer Roades and I am covering for Healer  Matternan at the moment.” He glanced down at Harry. “Your friend is suffering from a fairly rare side-effect of Dreamless Sleep. His mind is  awake but his body is still asleep. It’s very similar to the Muggle affliction sleep paralysis. This, accompanied with another rare side-effect of intense and vivid dreaming, is what is causing his distress. He is, temporarily, trapped in his nightmare.” 

“I’m not familiar with this side-effect. Rare or otherwise.” Draco narrowed his eyes at the healer before his gaze was drawn back to the restless yet sleeping Harry. 

“It is more common following any sort of trauma.” 

“Then why would you give it to a trauma victim? Why not try a Calming Draught instead?” He hissed and saw the healer flinch. 

“The benefits outweighed the risks. Mr. Potter was severely sleep deprived and he needed to sleep in order to properly recover from his physical injuries. This is merely temporary and will not have any lasting effects once he is properly awake.” 

“And when will that be?” Draco clenched his jaw when another pained sound escaped Harry’s chapped lips. 

“Some time in the next few hours.” 

“Hours?!” Draco whipped his head up to glare at the healer. “You want to just leave him like this for hours?” 

“It could be sooner. I’m reluctant to try and wake him before his body would wake naturally. He needs the sleep.” 

“This is not restful sleep. This is torture.” 

“His mind may be  restless but his body is still healing.” 

“There must be something we can do...” Draco grasped one of Harry’s hands in his own and resumed brushing his fingers through his hair. 

“We could administer another dose of Dreamless Sleep but it’s likely that we would just have this same problem again.” 

“What about a Calming Draught? It could help ease his fear and anxiety and wouldn’t wake him too soon.” Healer Roades sighed but looked like he was contemplating the possibility. 

“Let me speak with Healer  Matternan before we decide anything. In the meantime, do your best to keep him calm and comfortable.” He turned to leave and paused at the door. “I apologize for my behavior earlier.” 

“Of course.” Draco sneered again but luckily Roades hadn’t turned to face him. “See that you do not treat other patients or guests in the same manner again.” Roades gave a curt nod and left the room. Draco promptly got back into the narrow hospital bed. 

“I’m right here. You’re safe, darling. You’re safe with me. It’s over.” Draco pulled him closer, letting his head rest on his chest. Harry sometimes calmed when he could hear Draco’s heartbeat. Draco had found it a bit macabre at first but he soon  realized it helped to reassure Harry that he was safe and alive. 

Draco leaned his head back against the flat pillow and closed his eyes. Now that the incompetent healer had departed, he allowed himself to be somewhat ashamed of his own behavior. He had behaved exactly like his father would have. Using veiled physical threats and threats against their reputation to get what he wanted. He had bragged about residing in the same house as that maniac and the things he had been party to. Harry would have been appalled. And rightly so. 

“The things I do for you.” Draco sighed softly and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Harry’s head. Harry’s breathing had quickened but it was shallow, incomplete. His expression seemed stuck in that pained grimace. His attempts at breathing faster, as though running a marathon, must be aggravating his multiple injuries. “I know, darling. I’m sorry. You’ll be all right.” 

“Mr. Malfoy.” Healer  Matternan stepped into the room followed by Roades. Draco was relieved to see the more competent healer. “How is he doing?” 

“I believe his nightmare is worsening. He’s breathing as though he is sprinting through the Forbidden Forest but his body isn’t capable of sustaining it at the moment.” 

“That’ll be the bruised ribs.” Healer  Matternan pulled her wand from her robes and cast a few more spells. “Well, at this point the nightmare is affecting his physical health. Elevated heart rate, blood pressure, and respirations. He’s more likely to cause further damage if we let him stay in this state.” She turned to Roades. “ Let’s administer a Calming Draught and then wake him. He may be able to rest better if he sees Mr. Malfoy is with him.” 

“I’ll let Ashley know.” Roades left the room again. 

“I’m sorry about him.” Healer  Matternan jerked her head in the direction that Roades had gone. “He’s an intern and hasn’t realized yet that he doesn’t know everything. And his bedside manner leaves something to be desired.” She sighed and Draco looked at her. The healer looked exhausted but that didn’t stop the small, gentle smile on her face as she brushed back some of Harry’s dark hair. “The idiot grows on you rather quickly, doesn’t he?” She shook her head. “I’ve never met a junior Auror more fool-hardy and stubborn. They don’t usually start out that way. It takes most Aurors a few years before they think they’re Merlin’s gift to the occupation and they decide to try and save everyone single-handed. Of course, I suppose he’s already done that, hasn’t he?” 

“He has always had a bit of a  saviour complex...” Draco sighed. Healer  Matternan laughed softly. 

“I’m sure.” The door swung open and the  mediwitch from earlier walked in. In her hands was an extra blanket and pillow and a syringe full of what Draco could only assume was Calming Draught. “Thank you, Ashley. Mr. Malfoy, if you could, tuck the blanket around Mr. Potter.” Ashley handed him the blanket and he hesitated briefly before he wrapped Harry up tightly, murmuring comforting nonsense as he did so. 

“I didn’t realize that was an injectable potion.” Draco raised an eyebrow at the syringe. 

“Ah, well, we’ve had to make several adjustments to make it so but it has proven invaluable over the last several months.” Healer  Matternan sighed. “In the triage department and Janus  Thickey . Plenty of survivors of the war suffer from post-traumatic stress and panic attacks. And it isn’t always feasible for them to swallow a potion when they can hardly breathe.” 

“That’s brilliant.” Draco was desperately curious about how they had adjusted the potion and if they had done this with anything else. 

“Thank you. Now, Mr. Malfoy, hold him as tightly as you can. Ashley, if you will administer the potion.” Healer  Matternan had pulled her wand out and was watching Harry closely. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry while Ashley adjusted the blankets to gain access to his arm. The mediwitch cleansed the area before she quickly pressed the needle through his skin and into his muscle, injecting the potion. As soon as she had removed the needle, Healer  Matternan waved her wand and Harry woke with a sharp gasp. 

“Hush, darling. It’s all right. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” Draco murmured quietly as he held Harry down, preventing him from moving and hurting himself. 

“Welcome back, Mr. Potter.” Healer  Matternan sounded fondly annoyed. “You’ve landed yourself in St.  Mungos . How are you feeling?” 

“...Fine.” His voice was hoarse and cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “’m fine.” She raised an unimpressed eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. Harry sighed and couldn’t hide the wince. “Sore. Tired. Bit dizzy.” 

“Mm-hmm. That’ll be the blood loss. And the lack of proper nutrition. And the lack of proper sleep. And the abundance of caffeine. And nicotine.” Harry had the decency to look abashed. She sighed. “Do you remember what happened, Harry?” 

“Sort of.” Harry’s gaze flickered briefly to Ashley and then Draco before it dropped to his lap. “Er, could we maybe talk about it later?” 

“Ashley, can you please bring up a Meal-in-a-Bottle and some water for Mr. Potter and a cup of tea for Mr. Malfoy?” 

“Yeah, ‘course.” She flashed a quick smile at Harry before she left the room. 

“Do I need to ask Mr. Malfoy to leave as well?” Harry hesitated and glanced at Draco again. After a moment, he shook his head. “Do you remember going to  Grimmauld Place?” Harry nodded. “Do you remember why?” 

“...There was a report that Dolohov had been seen skulking about. I wanted to see if he was still around.” 

“And do you remember what happened next?” 

“Dolohov was there. Waiting for me. Rowle and Yaxley too. They were detained without much incident. Think he wanted it that way. He drew me further away from the house and into the square. ...I fell for his bloody taunting.” Harry swallowed roughly and Draco could see tears beginning to form. 

“Do you remember being hit by the curse?” 

“Yeah. I remember hearing him cast...something. And then the pain. But nothing after that.” He jolted and hissed at the pain. “Did they get away? Please tell me this wasn’t all for nothing.” 

“They have been remanded to Azkaban to await their trial.” Healer  Matternan reassured him. “May we focus on you?” Harry sighed and relaxed back into the bed. Draco thought he may have heard a tiny  _ Thank fuck _ . “The curse you were hit with left extensive damage. It caused internal hemorrhaging of all your major organs. We were able to repair the initial injury and stop the bleeding. However, you will need to stay in hospital for a couple days. You will need potions to help replenish the blood you lost and to accelerate healing of your bruised organs.” 

“Do I have to?” Draco and the healer rolled their eyes almost simultaneously. 

“Yes. If left to heal on your own, with injuries this extensive, it would take months for you to be back to perfect health.” Harry groaned. “And, while you are here, under my care, Mr. Potter, I am going to have to insist that you eat actual, full meals three times a day and get at least eight hours of sleep. I may not have any control over you outside these walls but for the next few days, you will take care of yourself.” 

“I always take care of myself, Lia.” Harry managed to grin up at her. She heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. Harry was saved from any further scolding by Ashley’s return. She set a potion and glass of water on the bedside table for Harry and a steaming cup of tea for Draco. 

“Drink the potion and I’ll leave you to rest, you insufferable boy.” Healer  Matternan shoved the potion into Harry’s hands. Reluctantly, he accepted it. After a tense moment of the healer glaring at him, Harry finally pulled the stopper out and swallowed the potion in one go. He pulled a face at the taste that had Ashley covering her face to keep from laughing. 

“There. Have I appeased your wrath?” Harry set the bottle down. 

“For now. Get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours.” She turned to leave, Ashley close behind her. 

“Thank you, Lia!” The healer waved her hand at him and the door closed, leaving Draco and Harry alone. They were both quiet for a few moments. “Not that I’m complaining but...what are you doing here?” 

“Apparently you listed me as your emergency contact.” Draco snorted. “Imagine my surprise when I receive the emergency correspondence through the  Floo . Honestly, Harry. What were you thinking?” 

“Dunno. Guess that I’d  wanna see your gorgeous face when I woke up in hospital.” 

“Whilst that is lovely to hear, Harry, and believe me, we will be discussing your questionable choice of emergency contact at a later time, we both know that is not what I meant.” Draco gently rearranged them to be able to look at Harry properly. “Why would you go after Dolohov by yourself?” 

“...I took on the darkest wizard in an age. What’s one Death Eater?” Harry shrugged and looked away. 

“No. No, you don’t get to lie to me right now. I have been out of my mind with worry. Mother is still stuck in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room. And you failed to tell me that I was your only emergency contact. So, try again.” 

“You didn’t have to come. And you didn’t have to stay. I honestly forgot I had even put your name down. Terribly sorry for the inconvenience.” The bitter tone sounded almost forced. 

“Harry, stop.” Draco just barely kept himself from yelling. “I am not going to let you start a fight and push me away. Not right now. Please, tell me what happened?” 

“I was just doing my job.” Harry twisted the blanket between his fingers, eyes fixated on the stilted movements. 

“Your job would have been to discuss your findings with a superior and then decide the best course of action. You were not just doing your job. You were endangering your own life just so that you could Dolohov in Azkaban and--” 

“He killed Remus.” Harry interrupted his tirade in a quiet, broken voice. “He killed Remus. And I had just spent the better part of a day with Teddy for his first Christmas. And Remus wasn’t there. And he should have been.  So when I saw that Dolohov had been spotted near  Grimmauld ...I was pretty sure he was waiting for me. And I wasn’t going to let him go. I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. Not again. I owed Teddy that much.” 

“Harry...” Draco sighed and pulled Harry closer. He pressed his face against Draco’s neck and Draco ran his fingers through his hair. 

“I hate him. It was... Christ, Draco.” His voice cracked. “I. ..I used the  Cruciatus Curse on him. Twice. He said mine was almost as good as...” He trailed off and Draco tightened his grip. “And he was laughing. And I thought...fuck, I thought I was back there. In the courtyard with Tom and the battle raging around us. I forgot where I was or who I was  dueling. I. ..I thought that with the horcrux gone I wouldn’t be so angry anymore. I thought it was all Tom and it made so much sense.  But, it’s me. It’s always been me. And I’m terrified.” 

“Darling, look at me.” Draco gently guided his head up so he could see his face. Harry’s eyes were red- rimmed and his lashes wet with unshed tears. “You have every right to be angry. Especially at someone like Dolohov. It does not make you like Tom Riddle. He was just winding you up. You are a wonderful person. You love so fiercely. And you protect the people you love. You are going to be okay.” 

“Promise?” Harry whispered, eyes pleading. Draco nodded and leaned down to press a gentle, chaste kiss to those chapped lips. 

“Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for sticking with me! I think just one more chapter and hopefully this one won't take as long to post... Comments and kudos are life y'all! Also if you'd to come at yell at me about this series, Drarry headcanons, Harry Potter in general, or any other things, you can follow me on Tumblr here https://blackmariahlee.tumblr.com/ And one day I will learn how to actually have a hyperlink in here...


	5. I Can't Remember All the Times I Tried to Tell Myself To Hold On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Auror Merryweather discuss the consequences, or lack thereof, to his reckless decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, well. This is the last chapter for this installment. It isn't quite what I wanted it to be. Unfortunately all my creative energy has decided to redirect to other avenues for now. And I struggled to even get this out. I still have plans for this universe and I don't intend to abandon it but it probably will be on hiatus for a while. This series has a special place in my heart and I always had big plans for it. And the more I wrote for it, the bigger those plans got. And I don't want to use shortcuts or skip the quiet moments in between and just sort of, skip to the end. I want to do this series justice. For myself and for all of you. So this is not goodbye. This is just...taking a break while I work on other things.

“ You’re jus ’ lucky it was me  interviewin ’ witnesses.” Merryweather had taken up Draco’s seat upon his arrival. One look at his superior and Harry had insisted that Draco go update his mother and asked if he could also notify the Weasleys where he was and that he was fine. He wanted to try and mitigate the worry and eventual outrage they would have over his stay at St.  Mungos . He knew it wouldn’t work but he could try. 

“You didn’t need to do that, sir.” Harry sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate it. He did. Immensely. But it still felt wrong. Like he was getting away with something. 

“I know that. It wasn’t truly relevant to any statement or their case. And it  ain’t like none of us have thought about it. Or cast an Unforgivable ourselves. The wars were hard on all of us.” Merryweather leaned back in the chair. “Besides, could  ya imagine the uproar? The Chosen One catches three rogue Death Eaters singlehandedly on Christmas Day and the Ministry rewards him with a suspension? There’d be riots in the streets.” 

“Not sure people would object if they knew why.” Harry managed to hide his grimace at Merryweather’s words. But only just. For the most part his superior couldn’t care less that he was  _ the _ Harry Potter. And yet, he would say things like that every once in a while and Harry hated it. Loathed it. He had thought being the Boy Who Lived and the Chosen One had been bad enough. But being The Saviour, The Boy Who Lived Twice, The Most Powerful Wizard in an Age...it was all so much worse. 

“Come off it, Harry.” Merryweather planted his boots back on the floor. “You used an Unforgivable on a wanted Death Eater who was responsible for the deaths of multiple witches and wizards and who knows how many Muggles.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “If ya ask me, Dolohov had it comin’. I’m savin’ us all a lot of time and trouble. Ya’d be suspended, hafta meet with the Auror Mind Healer, the case’d be reviewed, ya’d be reinstated without a fuss, and no charges brought.” 

“...Yeah, I know. ‘ Spose you’re right.” Harry finally looked over at him and Merryweather gave him a smirk. 

“I’m always right, Potter. Keep that in mind and  y’ll be fine.” He stood from the chair and stretched. “Just don’t  ya ever pull  somethin ’ like this again. It worked out this time but this  coulda ended a lot  dif’rent .  Ya hear me?” 

“Yes, sir. It won’t happen again.” Harry nodded. Merryweather stared him down for a moment before he sighed. 

“I doubt that, Potter. But we’ll work on it. For now,  ya just rest and get healed up. Do whatever  Matternan says.” He held his hand out and Harry grasped it. 

“I’ll do my best, Auror Merryweather.” Harry grinned for the first time since he’d woken up. Merryweather could never begin to replace Sirius or Remus but had a similar feeling. He cautioned Harry and didn’t care that he was who he was. But he also knew Harry was capable and no longer a child and sometimes had to remind him that, much as they both may hate it, who he was at the end of the day. 

“See that  ya do, Potter.” Merryweather left the room with a distinct click. It sounded loud in the otherwise quiet of the room. Harry sighed and winced at the unpleasant pulling sensation it caused in his chest. 

Harry had  bollocksed this up pretty well. The first Christmas after the war and he had been so arrogant and foolish and ended up in hospital. The Weasley’s and Draco and his mother all deserved a peaceful holiday to heal. And he had fucked that up. Not only that but he had used an Unforgivable. Again. He had wanted to catch Dolohov. To keep him from ever causing another death again. To keep him from causing any more pain. And instead, he had tortured him. 

And his words were still ringing in his head. Dolohov had compared him to Riddle. The comparisons had bothered him for years, of course. But after the war, after the horcrux inside him was destroyed, Harry had thought that all of this rage and grief would finally leave  him and he could be himself. Now he was left to wonder. How much of that had been Tom Riddle? And how much of it was just Harry? 

Harry leaned over and put his head in his hands, the pain in his torso was burning and the points of his elbows on his knees ached. He felt like he was going mad. Maybe he was. Maybe the war had turned him mad at last. Maybe the horcrux had lived inside him for so long that it left a permanent stain on his own soul. For nearly seventeen years, a piece of Tom Riddle had resided in his mind, his heart, his soul. How was he supposed to recover from that? He was the first and only case of a horcrux inside a living person. There was no precedent. There were no specialists. There were no expert healers that Harry could consult. And no ancient tomes that Hermione could unearth in the restricted section of the library. 

This time there was nobody that Harry could count on to help solve the mystery. He was alone in this, alone again. A shiver ran through his aching body as it hadn’t since he had been a child, locked in a cupboard, scared and alone. He pulled his knees to his chest and fought the sob that was rising in his throat. 

How could he want so badly to be alone and yet long for the familiar companionship of his friends? Or Draco? He missed them and wanted to be with them and wanted to be able to lean on them for support but then, as soon as he was with them, he wanted to be alone. It was frustrating and it made no sense and only made him more secure in the theory that he had lost his mind. 

Harry ran his fingers through his hair and tightened his grip on the strands. Tears were building up and stinging his eyes. And he wanted to scream. He pulled at his hair in an attempt to quell the desperate urges that were pulling his whole body painfully taut. His breaths were coming in harsh, shallow bursts that were making the burning in his chest worse. Maybe he was just a freak? Maybe Petunia and Vernon had been right all along. Maybe it would have been safer to never send him to Hogwarts. What if he became the next Dark Lord? A terrifying image of an older Teddy standing across the courtyard from Harry flashed through his mind and he couldn’t hold in the strangled noise he made. He should have stayed dead. He never should have come back. He was bad and evil and so fucking angry and... 

“...and just breathe for me, darling.” Draco? When had Draco come back? “ Shhh , you’re all right. You’re safe. I’m right here. Just breathe. In and out. Nice and slow.” Distantly, Harry realized that Draco had climbed into the bed and taken Harry into his arms. He was swaying them side to side, running his fingers through his hair. Harry tried to do as instructed, slowing his breathing to match Draco. After several minutes, he was back to breathing normally and was more aware of his surroundings. 

“Better?” Draco kissed the top of his head and Harry nodded once. He expected Draco to withdraw but he only hummed. He stayed, wrapped around Harry on the uncomfortable hospital bed. And Harry knew that Draco would be leaving soon. He needed to get back to Paris and school and his new life. And Harry had to face the Weasleys and Andromeda and his superiors at the Ministry. But for now he could bury his head against Draco’s chest and try to catch his breath. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it wasn't worth the (incredibly long) wait but I hope you all enjoyed it! The other ideas that I have in the works are more Draco/Harry so if you enjoy this series and that ship, stay tuned for more of that! And I will be back working on this series just as soon as my creative energies let me. I appreciate each and every person who has read this series and I hope y'all stick around! Comments and kudos are still life, y'all!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Stayed tuned for the next chapter soon! Comments and kudos are life y'all!


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